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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069073">The bet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingforTheAvengers/pseuds/WritingforTheAvengers'>WritingforTheAvengers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, Smut, there's gonna be some smut at some point i swear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:46:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingforTheAvengers/pseuds/WritingforTheAvengers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha have loved each other for a very long time although the unspoken promise between them is to be friends forever no matter what. They have held up their end of the deal very well throughout the years, but on a night of drinking and relaxing after a mission, a young woman caught Clint's attention completely, which doesn't seem to make Nat very happy. Out of jealousy, Nat proposes a bet to Clint, and though reluctant at first, he accepts. </p><p>If Clint makes this girl fall in love with him within a year, he will get Nat's apartment, but if he loses, she will claim his new apartment. </p><p>Clint doesn't like the idea of putting his heart on the line, but the idea of a free car and a jealous Nat is very tempting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Working late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You’re at an ungodly hour working. Nothing strange or that you hadn’t done before, but the problem was that you had set that the night to dedicate it to putting on one of those Korean sheet masks, meditating and stretching before going to bed, but at 3 am you saw that possibility going south.</p><p>The article on how much it cost to the city to pick up after the vigilantes and their community service wasn’t well received by your editor. He was a huge fan of heroes and their “work”, so your month-long research that just showed how woefully expensive they were wasn’t exactly his favorite thing and he made it very clear, and so you had to change the topic, make it something more “hero friendly” as he put it.</p><p>The only good thing was that as you collected the information, there was a lot of praising to the heroes’ contribution to rate crimes and overall security, so you’d work with that instead. You contacted Karen Page, a known journalist/paralegal woman that had a lot to do with the vigilantes in Hell’s Kitchen to work in this story, so her testimony became of great help as well. Maybe someone else would be ready to have that conversation in another moment. You still had a few days to turn the work in, but it was hard to start all over again, especially when the first one was a pretty damn good job and it went over a really important topic.</p><p>A loud knock on the door startled you and dragged you out of your thoughts, and when you turned around, your roommate, Bailey Miller, was leaning on the door frame. She had her fawn hair in a long braid, and had put on her fluffy, pink robe. Her bunny slippers tapped the hardwood floor, and her usually friendly expression had been replaced by a mix of anger and sleepiness. It was a funny sight, because her attire didn’t match her face at all.</p><p>“Do you know what time is it?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest. “(Y/N), do you have any fucking clue of what time it is?”</p><p>“I know it’s late,” you rose your arms and stretched, making your back crack. “Seth told me to change this story,” you pointed at your computer, “because the public doesn’t wanna know how much money the city spends on vigilantes. He wants something more hero friendly, and here I am… trying to get this first draft ready,” you rubbed your temples. “Why are you awake?”</p><p>“Dude, it’s not just late. It’s almost 4 in the morning. Are you fucking insane?” Bailey pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “(Y/N), I can hear you typing furiously and I cannot sleep.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’ll try to keep it down,” you apologized.</p><p>“I need you to go to bed,” she growled. “I am feeling already sleep deprived, and if I don’t get some sleep now, I’m gonna be ugly and angry all day long, and it’s gonna be on no one but you.”</p><p>“Yeah, we don’t want that,” you shook your head and chuckled softly. “Alright, I’ll work on this in the morning.”</p><p>“Thanks,” she said in an unfriendly tone as she walked back to her room. She shut her door with a loud slam and you figured it was time you went to bed too. You hadn’t written a lot, and you realized you wouldn’t write anything coherent then. You gave up and went to slide under the covers of your bed, thanking your lucky stars for not having to go to work the next morning. </p><p>You did wake up early the next morning, since Bailey had the terrible habit of being obnoxiously loud. At 8 am, she was already yelling at someone over the phone, and you had no choice but to get up and grab your first cup of coffee of the day. </p><p>You watched her walk naked in the apartment with her phone squished between her ear and her shoulder as she got the coffee machine ready. She turned around, and waved at you casually and walked back to her room. Even though you had been living together for a while, and been friends for an even longer time, you still couldn’t get used to her walking around naked so carelessly.</p><p>The story of you two began in high school, when one of your teachers told you it could be a good idea to participate in the school’s newspaper. You weren’t exactly keen to do it, since it might affect your non-existent reputation, but since you didn’t have anything else to do, you decided to give it a try. Bailey was already there, being the natural leader she was and she ran things quite smoothly, and you hit it off quite quickly. She was the perfect opposite to you, and it was lucky for you to have gotten into the same journalism school.</p><p>You admired her a lot, and you secretly wished to be more like her; she was always very outspoken about everything, and if you needed some tea spilled, she would be the one to give it to you without sugarcoating. She was tough—sometimes way too tough and blunt—, but somehow found a way to be kind, but most importantly, she was the most supporting and uplifting person you knew apart from, probably, your parents. And whenever you had those comparison feelings, she would come to you and tell you that you didn’t need anything that she had. She was an amazing person and friend, and you cherished her a lot.</p><p>She came out of her room in her underwear, making it a huge progress for that morning because she loved being naked and she was also a bit of a slow dresser; you, on the other hand, were making French toasts, you’d had cravings for them since you watched Kramer vs. Kramer a few days before.</p><p>“I thought you didn’t have to work today,” Bailey said, taking a couple of mugs and pouring coffee in them. “It’s really early, considering you went to bed really late last night.”</p><p>“Yeah, but my roomie is a bit of a loud early bird,” you pursed your lips, leaving the two ready toasts on a plate and slid it across the kitchen isle so Bailey could eat. “Dude, you really need to get dressed, you’re gonna catch a cold.”</p><p>“Dressing up sucks, and you know that,” she said in between munches. “Geez, these are good,” she threw her head back and hummed obscenely. “Quit the journal and do this for the rest of your life, I swear,” she pointed at her plate. “You know what I was thinking? Since we don’t have to go to the office tomorrow, what if we go out tonight?”</p><p>“Tonight?” You placed your toasts in a plate and turned around to have breakfast with her.</p><p>“Yeah, have a couple of drinks, maybe meet someone, get lucky,” she offered in a mischievous voice. “It’s been a while since we last went out, and we could use some fun. Maybe you’ll write even better after that.”</p><p>“Yeah, but—” you started, but couldn’t make it past those two words.</p><p>“Think twice before making up an excuse,” she pointed a menacing finger at you. “You have the day off to write a lot, and you can write when you come back home if you get lucky.”</p><p>“What makes you think I eve wanna get lucky?” You rose an eyebrow.</p><p>“You don’t?” She cocked an eyebrow back at you. “Well, that’s not a problem because I wouldn’t mind if I do,” Bailey took a long sip from her mug and placed it on the table. “Finish your breakfast and leave everything in the sink while I go get dressed. I’ll clean this up when I’m ready. Can you at least promise that you’ll think about it?” She pleaded, walking to her room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Cullen vibe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After some meditation, (Y/N) decides to accept Bailey's invitation to go out. They're having a few drinks when a trio of gorgeous people taken directly out of Twilight makes their way to a secluded spot. (Y/N) can't help but to stare, and it seems like someone's staring back at her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Though reluctantly at first, the idea of going out dug deeper in your brain as the day went by. You could use some fun, after all. You texted Bailey at around midday to tell her you accepted, and hoped you didn’t regret your decision later on.</p><p>After making great advances with your story, you headed to the bathroom to take a well-deserved bubble bath. You had your music with you and it made the whole time a lot better. You washed all corners of your body calmly and thoroughly; the soapy water was still warm and it smelled nice, and you didn’t want to get up, but there was some hair washing left to do.</p><p>You patted yourself dry afterwards and decided to give Bailey’s nakedness a try. You were at home completely alone, and she wouldn’t comeback until past 6 pm. It felt chilly at first, and you feared someone would come for any reason, or that someone could look at you through the windows of your apartment. But once you overcame the chills and the fears you started to enjoy it. </p><p>It was a weird kind of enjoyment, and with your phone in your hand and the music still playing, you started shaking your body and dancing happily all the way to your room. You did enjoy the feel of your pajamas, so until Bailey arrived and decided it was a good time to start getting ready, you stayed like that.</p><p>A couple of hours later, and while you were almost done with the first draft of your article, you heard Bailey coming through the door. It was just like this morning when she woke you up having a heated argument with someone over the phone; she was having another heated argument with someone over the phone. You wondered if it was the same person or not.</p><p>You pulled out your go-to outfit for going out, and before you could leave the room, Bailey was holding a hanger with another outfit, one way different than what you had on. She shook her head in a disapproving manner and clicked her tongue.</p><p>“Why do I even bother inviting you?” She dramatically sighed and left the attire on your bed. “You could at least try a little bit harder.”</p><p>“What? You chose this,” you pointed at yourself. “I don’t get what’s wrong with it.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I picked it two years ago. I’m amazed and proud you can still fit in these clothes, especially since I cannot,” she rolled her eyes, “but you gotta change. This cannot be what you’ll always wear whenever we go out.”</p><p>“And so you brought this?” You pointed at the clothes lying on your bed. “Wait—there are tags on them. These are new,” you said, feeling slightly betrayed, “where did you get ’em?”</p><p>“I bought them,” she said simply.</p><p>“I hate it when you buy me clothes, you know I can buy my own stuff,” you rolled your eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, but, ummm,” she tapped her chin lightly. “I don’t care,” she said with a shit eating expression on her face. “I’m honestly quite rich and I can buy you shit if I want, and I want to. It’s your birthday next weekend, so expect some more clothes coming up. Come on, change into this and that’s it. You and I are gonna have some fun because we deserve it, and you deserve to look better,” she turned around and left you alone with the new stuff.</p><p>You knew you couldn’t argue with her, and though you hated to admit it, the clothes were really pretty. There was a cute emerald crop top along with a pair of pitch black tight jeans; you looked at them for a short while until you decided to try them on.</p><p>“Damn you, Bailey Miller!” You yelled while checking yourself out in the mirror of your room. Your hands roamed down your ass, feeling how nicely the jeans fit. Even your boobs looked better in that crop top. Bailey walked slowly to your room, pacing triumphantly and when she saw you, she returned to her room to keep doing her make-up.</p><p>You headed to the kitchen to have something to eat before going out and Bailey made a dramatic entrance just to show you how gorgeous she looked. Bailey was really confident, and very vocal about it, but there was something to her whenever she dressed up that made her glow. It wasn’t Fenty’s products, it wasn’t highlighter; it was something else you couldn’t pinpoint, but you loved how it looked on her.</p><p>“Shall we?” She offered. “Our ride is outside.”</p><p>When you got to the club, you stayed at the bar for a while. The music was still not loud and you could talk comfortably without screaming. You drank your first beer and you couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed one. It was cold, perfectly bitter and it was enough to start lifting your spirits. A great start, but you’d surely want something else later. Something stronger.</p><p>As you talked to Bailey, you saw a group of people coming in. A redheaded woman, a guy with long, dark hair pulled up in a half bun, and a guy, apparently a bit older than the two before, with dark blonde hair with an unfriendly face. All of them were really attractive, and you found yourself staring at them. They walked like they were vampires in the Twilight movies, and the last guy that caught your attention looked at you as he walked by. Your eyes met for short seconds, and then he and the redhead walked over to a table, while the guy with the darkest hair ordered some drinks.</p><p>“Is it just me, or those three gave you a Twilight vibe?” Bailey asked, coming closer to you. “Take, tonight’s on me,” she shuffled her shoulders, making it look like a stiff shimmy, and handing you a shot glass of tequila. You would regret it afterwards.</p><p>You chuckled lightly and shook your head. “I think I’ve seen them,” you furrowed your brow. “I just don’t know where…” you chugged the small drink down your throat and winced. You didn’t like tequila only for the bad decisions it made you take, but you loved how lively and loosen you got with it.</p><p>The music started and Bailey grabbed your hand and dragged you to the dance floor. You and Bailey started swaying your bodies together at the rhythm, and all you could feel –apart from the booming in your ears—was the penetrating eyes from the guy you had seen earlier.</p><p>“I think he’s looking at you,” Bailey said to your ear. “He’s got a weird hotness. I’m sure he could dominate the fuck out of anyone,” she laughed heartedly. “I’d tap that.”</p><p>“Yeah… He’s got a little somethin’, I guess. Like he’s hot, but not like in a good guy kinda way, more like in a bad ass way,” you could feel the drink getting to you, not enough to make you feel drunk, but enough to get you loosen up. “You don’t even like dudes,” you laughed heartedly, placing your arm on her shoulder and moving seductively, “how come you find him hot?”</p><p>“A hot piece of ass is a hot piece of ass no matter what,” she rose her palms and shrugged as she danced. “But the redhead next to him is a lot hotter—she’s got everything I look for.”</p><p>“Do you wanna get closer to them?” You offered. You couldn’t take your eyes off of them, especially the man in the middle. Apparently, they were teasing him about something. Perhaps it was you</p><p>“Nope, I think they are,” Bailey grabbed your arm tightly and pretended to be fully invested in dancing. “Come on, dance it out!”</p><p>The guy that was looking at you walked among the crowd looking like a rock star. He was looking straight at you, like a predator looks at a prey, but you were no prey; not his at least. The redhead walked straight to Bailey, and the other long haired friend came up to another woman. The two of you stood still just looking at each other. </p><p>He didn’t want to do this, it was obvious, but he took a step closer at you and so did you. A sudden feel of self-consciousness took over you, and you felt ridiculous for standing in front of a guy that could’ve been looking at someone else, probably someone that was behind you.</p><p>“Do you wanna dance?” He reached out his hand to you and even though the music was loud, you could hear him really clearly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A little game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even though Clint, Natasha, and Bucky were really close, there was a sort of unspoken thing between Clint and Natasha and everyone knew about it. They flirted a lot, and whenever they felt lonely, they ran to each other’s arms, but not always in a romantic way. Bucky and Natasha had their own thing going on during the cold war, but since the Winter Soldier didn’t have all the details, he decided to let it go for the sake of the friendship. Instead, he found in the Russian spy a dear and loving friend, which he appreciated more than a lover.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“She’s real cute,” Natasha said to Clint. “And she’s been looking at you all night. Since we arrived.”</p><p>The two of them plus Bucky were at a bar, unwinding after a week-long mission. Cap was also in the mission, but he decided to stay home since he was a bit tired, and the trio was known to go hard with their drinks, especially after missions. Clint was the most careful one, since he was only human, but the spy and the soldier needed a lot to get drunk, which they always had. </p><p>Even though the three friends were really close, there was a sort of unspoken thing between Clint and Natasha and everyone knew about it. They flirted a lot, and whenever they felt lonely, they ran to each other’s arms, but not always in a romantic way. Bucky and Natasha had their own thing going on during the cold war, but since the Winter Soldier didn’t have all the details, he decided to let it go for the sake of the friendship. Instead, he found in the Russian spy a dear and loving friend, which he appreciated more than a lover.</p><p>Natasha and Clint were sitting on a well secluded area of the venue, while Bucky ordered some drinks. Clint had been looking at a young woman holding her glass tightly and dancing carelessly for a while, unaware of the archer’s stare. Clint agreed silently with Natasha, the woman was beautiful, and the movement of her hips was hypnotic. He felt a sudden urge to get up and ask her to dance.</p><p>“It’s been a while since you’ve hooked up with someone, at least that I know of,” she commented in a calmed voice.  “Why don’t you go up to her and talk? Maybe you can get lucky?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m not in the mood for it tonight. I just wanna get some drinks,” Clint shrugged. “Besides, I’ve been around,” he complained. “You don’t know everything about my sex life, Nat,” even though he chuckled softly, the redhead was not amused.</p><p>Bucky arrived a short while later and the three friends made a jokingly ceremonious toast and the chugged their first drink down like water. Luckily, Bucky had ordered a couple more that were about to be sent their way. </p><p>“Look at that girl, don’t you think she’s cute?” Natasha told Bucky, pointing at the girl Clint had been looking at earlier.</p><p>“Yeah, she’s kinda cute. I think she’s looking at Clint! You go bird man,” a mix between a roar and a laugh came out if Bucky’s throat, and it was so contagious Natasha couldn’t help but to laugh along with him. “Come on, Barton,” he elbowed Clint, “grow a pair and go talk to her.”</p><p>“Wait,” Natasha placed a hand on Clint’s arm. “Why don’t we make this dancing interesting?” Both men looked at her with intrigued expressions. “Go dance, get this chick’s number and get to know her, make her fall in love with you in a year, and if she tells you she loves you, you get my car and I do your sloppy paperwork for a whole year.”</p><p>“You’re not making any sense, Nat, and you’re not even drunk,” Clint shook his head. “Besides, we don’t get missions every day of the year.”</p><p>“If you don’t get an ‘<i>I love you</i>’,” Nat carried on, “I get to keep your apartment.”</p><p>“Are you being serious?” Bucky placed his metal arm around Natasha’s shoulders. “This doesn’t sound like you at all, Nat,” the two men looked at each other feeling worried about Natasha.</p><p>“Are you doing this because I said you don’t know everything about my sex life?” Clint cocked an eyebrow, and the redhead’s shit-eating face slowly faded. “Because if so, you’d be very childish.”</p><p>“Do you want my car or not?” Natasha folded her arms over her chest. </p><p>“Tempting, but the means to get it seems kinda evil to me.” </p><p>“It did bother me when you said that,” Natasha admitted, but her serious expression didn’t falter. “Only because it was because of you that my thing with Matt didn’t prosper,” Clint chuckled softly, feeling a little ashamed. “Are you gonna chicken out, or do I have a deal?”</p><p>“I could use a car, and you know how much I hate doing paperwork,” Clint commented. “But let me get to know this girl and I’ll tell you if it’s on or not,” he reached out his hand towards Natasha and she took it. They shook hands for a little while, though their hands lingered. “And it shouldn’t bother you if you don’t know everything about what I do with my life, we’re just friends after all,” the sexual tension was palpable and Bucky felt slightly awkward.</p><p>“Shall we dance, then?” Bucky offered, trying to cut it off.</p><p>The trio stood up and walked over the dance floor, and though Clint didn’t want to do it, he powered through and walked up to the girl that had been looking at him back and forth.</p><p>“Do you wanna dance?” He reached out his hand to the girl.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You're on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There was a wide spectrum of things Clint didn’t like to do, but dancing, strangely, was one of his favorite things. He didn’t do it often, at least not surrounded by a bunch of sweaty strangers, but now that he lived alone in a brand new apartment, he enjoyed the privacy to work on his moves. The one person he liked to dance with was Natasha. He liked Natasha, he could even say he loved her, and for many reasons; first and foremost, they knew each other for a very long time, and even though they had changed and grown, it felt as if they had done it together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a wide spectrum of things Clint didn’t like to do, but dancing, strangely, was one of his favorite things. He didn’t do it often, at least not surrounded by a bunch of sweaty strangers, but now that he lived alone in a brand new apartment, he enjoyed the privacy to work on his moves. The one person he liked to dance with was Natasha. He liked Natasha, he could even say he loved her, and for many reasons; first and foremost, they knew each other for a very long time, and even though they had changed and grown, it felt as if they had done it together. </p><p>But there he was, dancing with a stranger. She was a lot younger than him, probably in her late twenties, and she was clearly nervous to be around him. She didn’t look at him, or did so very quickly and glanced away or closed her eyes, feeling the beat drum all through her body. </p><p>Clint wasn’t drunk enough to forget about the bet that Natasha had proposed, and though he liked a good game and a better bet, he didn’t like the idea of playing with someone’s feelings. Especially if his were on the line of fire too; this girl didn’t have any kind of participation in his life other than the incidental exchange of looks, but apparently Natasha wasn’t okay with it. He knew he had it coming, since he wasn’t okay with what she used to have with that blind, fighting-crime dude from Hell’s Kitchen.</p><p>A song he didn’t know started playing, but the girl apparently did because she gasped, and she grabbed her friend’s arm to sing something in what it seemed like Spanish. Then, it had a weird suspense sound coming, like the one in old shark movies, and his dancing partner changed personalities completely.</p><p>“<i>Mami, que tu quiere’? Aquí llegó tu tiburón,</i>” she quickly got rid of her inhibitions and started dancing on her own, forgetting completely Clint was even there. “<i>Yo quiero perrearte y fumarme un blunt, ver lo que esconde ese pantalón…</i>”</p><p>She made a beckoning sign at him and she started rubbing herself onto him. She was so naturally careless, and though Clint was holding onto her hips, he wasn’t completely sure if he was enjoying it. She placed her arms on his shoulders and looked at him seductively, batting her eyelashes and tugging at her bottom lip. From up-close, she was very attractive, and the sheer layer of sweat that had gathered on her forehead gave her another kind of glow, not necessarily a literal one, but there was something new about her, something he liked very much.</p><p>She looked at him again, focusing on his lips and then on his eyes and smirking naughtily. It was so out of the sudden; it hit Clint like a snowball to the face, but there he was, leaning in to crash his lips against hers and holding on tightly to her waist. She grazed her fingers on the nape of his neck and along his short hair at the back of his head; discovering a soft spot that, until then, only Natasha had had any access to. </p><p>Her lips molded perfectly with his, and her mouth was just a little bit open for her to slightly slide her tongue on his bottom lip. Clint’s grip on her waist tightened, and he pressed her against his body harshly, eliciting a soft, nasty moan from her perfectly plump lips. One of his hands roamed up her arm and shoulder to meet the back of her head, at the base of her hairline. He kept her in place, as they were no longer dancing with the music; they were at another pace, a pace of their own.</p><p>She broke the kiss and continued to dance away from him, but only at the reach of his arms. He felt flustered and kinda bothered. He didn’t remember the last time a girl made him feel like that, and though he didn’t really mind, he did feel a certain attraction to her. He grabbed her arm and made her twirl, only to make her press her back against his. She held on to the back of his neck as she swayed her well secured hips. Clint was holding on to the hem of her jeans while pulling her closer, but there was no space left in between them. She rested her head on his shoulder as she sang loudly to the lyrics of, yet another song he didn’t know.</p><p>She turned around one last time and placed her hands around his shoulders to pull him closer to her. Clint was already too into it to care about Natasha’s glare a few meters away. </p><p>“I’m getting kinda thirsty,” she said to his ear in a raspy voice. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”</p><p>“Let me come with you,” Clint offered.</p><p>Natasha saw the two walk away to the bar and then towards the table. She told her dancing partner to with her, and on their way to the table, she dragged Bucky along. </p><p>“(Y/N), hey!” Natasha’s dancing partner exclaimed as she met her, apparent, friend at the table. Clint repeated the name in his mind over and over again as if he feared he’d forget it. “Thought you’d ditch me!” She went so sit next to her friend.</p><p>“It seemed to me like you were in good company,” she chuckled lightly, squeezing closer towards Clint, who had a hand on her thigh and the other around her back. “Hey,” she greeted the two strangers. The redhead that had her hand intertwined with Bailey earlier was looking threateningly at her, and (Y/N) felt suddenly intimidated, and shrunk smaller and smaller in the seat. She leaned onto Clint, trying to regain confidence again.</p><p>“Buck, help me get us all a couple of beers, would you?” The redhead smiled widely, but (Y/N) couldn’t seem to buy it or trust it. “We’ll be right back,” she swayed her hips as she walked to the bar.</p><p>“So, (Y/N),” Clint said in a seductive voice. “It seems like you have a name,” he teased. “I’m Clint, by the way, Clint Barton.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” you smiled and pecked his lips swiftly. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”</p><p>“I’m Bailey Miller, in case you were wondering,” Bailey chimed in. “I’m this bitch’s best friend,” she pointed at her friend, “and I do need to ask, is your friend single?”</p><p>“Bucky? Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “Why?”</p><p>“Yeah great,” Bailey said carelessly, “but I was talking about your other friend, the redhead one… I think she said her name was Natasha, but with the music I couldn’t really her.”</p><p>“She’s single, as far as I know,” Clint blinked perplexed, and though he knew Natasha liked women too, it was the first time in perhaps forever, that he didn’t care who Natasha was with, “but I’m not sure if she likes women,” he lied.</p><p>“Maybe,” Bailey tilted her head to both sides, “but the way she kissed me back there didn’t really give me a straight vibe,” she shrugged carelessly. (Y/N) kicked her friend’s shin under the table for not thinking before speaking. Bailey glared at her for a split second. “Rude,” she hissed.</p><p>Natasha and Bucky came back with the drinks and the new acquaintances shared some more vague details about their lives. Clint’s hand grazed lazily over (Y/N)’s thigh, drawing irregular shapes on the fabric. He kissed her head lightly every once in a while, which seemed to bother Natasha very much. </p><p>Clint loved it when Natasha was jealous. It was so obvious, and when she had more alcohol in her blood it was a fun spectacle to watch. Bucky watched his two friends stir the sexual tension between them, but he did notice that Clint held (Y/N) in a strange manner. Maybe the alcohol had gotten to his head, but he could’ve sworn that Clint had never hold Nat like that.</p><p>“I think we’re gonna head off,” (Y/N) gently patted Clint’s lap. “I’ve got work to do tomorrow, and I need to finish it,” she pursed her lips. “It was nice to meet you, Clint Barton,” she giggled softly and kissed his cheek. “Bailey, come on,” she pointed at the door with a quick movement of her head.</p><p>“You’re not gonna give me your number?” Clint pouted.</p><p>“Why don’t you give me yours and I’ll call you,” (Y/N) offered. She wasn’t really interested in exchanging numbers with him. It was all fun and games, but she thought it should stay that way. Though Clint insisted, her answer remained negative. She didn’t like when men insisted too much about anything, it made her lose interest right away. She stood up. “Bye guys,” she waved them goodbye and started walking away. </p><p>Natasha and Bailey exchanged a few more words and the redhead walked her new conquest to the door. They shared one last kiss, and then the spy came back to her table, feeling rather triumphant, unlike Clint.</p><p>“Alright, Nat,” Clint said, feeling hot and bothered, and especially frustrated because he couldn’t get that girl’s number. “You’re on.”</p><p>A wide smile spread on the redhead’s lips. “Good.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Extra hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The time had flown quickly in your desk while you finished the details for your article on people’s perceptions about the work of heroes and vigilantes. You only noticed it was time to leave when the person on the cubicle next to you yawned loudly and rose his hands over the thin and not long enough walls. Then, once he stood up, he reminded you it was about time to leave. You saved and closed everything and walked outside.</p>
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    <p>The time had flown quickly in your desk while you finished the details for your article on people’s perceptions about the work of heroes and vigilantes. You only noticed it was time to leave when the person on the cubicle next to you yawned loudly and rose his hands over the thin and not long enough walls. Then, once he stood up, he reminded you it was about time to leave. You saved and closed everything and walked outside.</p><p>“Are you so in love with your work you even work extra time?” You are startled by a dark blonde haired man. “I was getting kinda bored, you know?”</p><p>“What are you doing here, Clint?” You asked unamused. “Didn’t you know that lurking and waiting for women outside of their work places might be considered as harassment?”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to make it look like that that,” he chuckled. “I just didn’t have your number to call you and tell you I wanted us to go out today,” he said in a chill voice. “You didn’t want to give me your number the other night.”</p><p>“The other night was like a week ago,” you untangled the neckerchief from your bag’s handle and started wrapping it around your neck; you wanted to make it obvious that his presence was nothing you required or wanted and that you were impatient to leave. “I would’ve hoped you’d forgotten about our encounter by now—that you’d find another person to ask for their number,” you pursed your lips.</p><p>“Yeah, but that didn’t happen,” Clint shrugged. “If it had, I wouldn’t be here. Could I ask you for a drink or a coffee, or any beverage of your preference now?”</p><p>“Will you back off if I were to say no?” You folded your arms over your chest.</p><p>“Yes,” he swore with a hand up and the other on his chest.</p><p>“Alright,” you took a deep breath. “Coffee it is then,” you smiled lightly and started walking past him so he could follow. “Come on,” you looked at him from over your shoulder. “I know a place nearby,” you pointed the way with a quick nod and he walked quickly to catch up with you.</p><p>There was a coffee house you liked to go in your breaks from work, and though sharing it with someone else than yourself was not a particularly inviting idea, it was nice to think that someone else would buy you something you wouldn’t have bought for yourself. Because you were going to order the fanciest drink that you could think of. Poor Clint, he was about to fall into the trap of inviting someone for something. </p><p>“Are we gonna talk about how you found me or you’d rather we talk about something else?” You asked before taking a sip from your creamy and foamy coffee. “Cause I feel like that’s less interesting than I’d like. I’ll have to guess it was Natasha’s doing that you found me, Bailey’s really,” you pointed out. “But your friend must’ve told you.”</p><p>“I’d rather talk about you,” Clint teased. “What do you do for a living? What are some of your interests? What do you hate?”</p><p>“I hate guys who insist too much,” you shot back. “It makes me lose all interest in them, honestly. Don’t get me wrong, a try hard is kinda fun, but if he tries too hard,” you pursed your lips and wrinkled your nose. “It cuts me off in like two seconds. Anyway, I am a journalist, I write for an online journal and I’m interested in heroes and vigilantes, and all the possible sides there are to them.”</p><p>“You’re in luck, cause I’m—”</p><p>“Clint Barton, the guy with the arrows,” you cut him off. “I know. The name didn’t ring a bell at first, but then it hit me,” you tapped your temple lightly. “I tried to get an interview from you a while back, about how is it for a regular person to be an asset of the mightiest heroes on earth. Not only an asset, but pretty much like one of their founding members,” you pursed your lips. Clint looked at you perplexed. “If I remember correctly, you said you were not interested in that shit, but I could be wrong you know,” you smiled slyly and gave your coffee another sip.</p><p>“Wow,” Clint released a breathy laugh. “But here we are, you could interview me again if you’d like,” he winked at you, and if you hadn’t known better you would say he was trying really hard to seduce you, but it would take more than a fancy coffee and a possible interview. “I am an idiot, you know. Always blowing my chances to meet interesting people.”</p><p>You propped an elbow on the table, leaning closer to him and with your best naught face you said. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Is there anything else that it’s compulsory for everyone to know about you?” He leaned forward until he was really close to you. </p><p>“I had a twin sister, but I ate her in the womb,” you kept a deadly serious face and tone to try to scare Clint, but he only leaned back on the chair’s back and laughed heartedly placing a hand on his chest and the other on his stomach. “No, not really,” you relaxed your expression. “There isn’t much about me that’s interesting. I’ve lived a pretty plain life.”</p><p>“But you write about heroes, so that must be interesting.”</p><p>“I haven’t really gotten to any of them,” you clicked your tongue. “The closest I’ve been to a hero is Karen Page, the journalist form Hell’s Kitchen that keeps ties with the vigilantes there, especially Frank Castle.”</p><p>“The Punisher?” He asked and you nodded silently. “For such a small world, I’m surprised we haven’t bumped into him.”</p><p>“I feel like we’ve been talking about me a lot, and I’m getting a bit uncomfortable. Is there anything I should know about you that everyone knows? Off the record, of course,” you smiled.</p><p>“Well, I’m a simple guy with a tendency for recklessness.”</p><p>“How does Avenging started? Where does this recklessness tendency come from?”</p><p>“You sure we’re off the record?” Clint cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>“Yes of course,” you chuckled lightly. “I’m very professional, and it’d be interesting to have you as my source for later, so I might as well refrain myself from the impromptu interview.” </p><p>Clint and you ordered a couple more coffees and more sweets to go with it, but it amazed you how good he was at not revealing too much. It’s not like you revealed too much about yourself either, but for a guy like him, that was incredibly out there, you would’ve guessed and expected him to be very vocal about everything.</p><p>You told Clint you needed to get home, and you refused as soon as he got the idea to take you home. You had a light idea on how he found out about your job, but you were sure you wouldn’t let him get near your place. He seemed like a cool guy, but you wouldn’t trust him so easily. You did exchange numbers this time, on the promise to make an article about him in the near future.</p><p>You unlocked the door to your apartment, hoping you’d find Bailey naked, but to your pleasant surprise, she was wearing her robe and her bunny slippers, and her make-up was visibly gone and her fawn hair was tied in a long braid. This was the look she had when she declared the day as finished and she no longer cared about work or the responsibilities of the adult life. She had her phone pressed against her ear, she was talking, and from the sounds of it, it must have probably been her latest boo. </p><p>Natasha and Bailey had really hit it off since that night at the bar, they exchanged numbers and kept in touch ever since. While you headed to your room to get changed, you heard your friend being all kinds of cheesy before saying goodbye. You walked out and lazily waved your hand at her.</p><p>“Do you know who I ran into today?” You asked Bailey, and she shook her head. “Clint Barton.”</p><p>“Really?” Bailey looked at you, knitting her brows together in confusion. “That’s odd.”</p><p>“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know what’s weird? He picked me up from work,” you narrowed your eyes. “Did you talk to him or tell him something?”</p><p>“No,” she shook her head. “I mean, Nat has been asking me about my life and when you and I met and stuff like that,” she carelessly shrugged one shoulder. “She said we looked like we were really close and I told her we were.”</p><p>“She must’ve told Clint then,” you sighed and Bailey nodded in agreement. “Anyway, he invited me for a cup of coffee and we talked for a bit,” you shrugged, heading for the coffee machine. “It’s weird, he’s… I don’t know. I just can’t figure him out yet,” you bit the inside of your bottom lip. “There’s something about him that doesn’t fit, that’s not right.”</p><p>“You know, I don’t feel right about him,” Bailey confessed. “There’s something about him that I just cannot…” she groaned. “I cannot pinpoint it, but there’s something I don’t like. Be careful around him, okay?” Even though Bailey was very light hearted and seemed like an absentminded person most of the time, there was something about her intuition and gut feeling that never seemed to fail. You didn’t know if you wanted it to fail or not, since Clint seemed more like a fun guy than a love interest, especially because he was the one trying hard to win your heart, but in the meantime, you’d be wary of him and his intentions.</p><p>“You’re treating me like a child,” you rolled your eyes. “I think I can make my own decisions about guys—and by decisions I mean mistakes,” you took a sip from the warm beverage, but you regretted it right away because you realized you had way too much coffee in a short time. It was going to be yet another sleepless night.</p><p>“No, I mean it. There is something about him,” she told you. “Just be careful, okay?”</p><p>“Jeez,” you chuckled. “It’s not like we’re gonna get married. We’re really just getting to know each other. He invited me coffee today,” you pursed your lips into a soft smile.</p><p>“Yeah, you already said that,” she teased, “and yet here you are having another one,” she noticed. “Good luck sleeping tonight,” Bailey mocked. “Oh, I know! Call him, get laid, and then come back to get some sleep.”</p><p>“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, not feeling exactly thrilled with her idea.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. First date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>About a month after your first encounter, Clint invited you to the cinema. There was a movie you’d been wanting to see for a few days, but Bailey was all over Natasha so she was not available. You didn’t like to go alone because even though you had a lot of confidence, you didn’t have a lot of social confidence to go on your own. Turns out that Clint wanted to see the same movie as you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>About a month after your first encounter, Clint invited you to the cinema. There was a movie you’d been wanting to see for a few days, but Bailey was all over Natasha so she was not available. You didn’t like to go alone because even though you had a lot of confidence, you didn’t have a lot of social confidence to go on your own. Turns out that Clint wanted to see the same movie as you.</p><p>After the movie, Clint invited you to get a couple of drinks. You accepted without further thinking because he had been quite nice lately and never appeared out of the blue out of your work place again. You wouldn’t admit it to his face—at least not sober—but you liked spending time with him. He was fun, he had a great sense of humor, and he liked to invite you to stuff you liked: coffee, movies, drinks, therefore it was hard to say no to his invitations.</p><p>Since you were not in the mood to dance, Clint decided to take you to a bar that could talk in a normal voice. He sat in front of you and waited for the drinks to start coming to bombard you with questions about your life. Where you studied, your first work experiences, how you and Bailey met, and by then, you were feeling slightly dizzy for the alcohol so you asked him if he could get something to eat. Then more drinks started coming as well as more food, and then he got to the topic on your love life.</p><p>You had never really been interested in keeping a love life, you used most of your time working, studying or doing something else, so love was always left on a third and fourth position. Yes, you had occasional relationships here and there but they never seemed to last more than a couple of months. You were extremely happy with your life, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world, not even for a boyfriend.</p><p>“You’re really intriguing, (Y/N),” Clint said, but you could hear his words were sloppy and slightly slurred. You could tell that by then, the link between his brain and his lips was a bit broken. “I need to ask though, are you normal? Like—do you have any unsolved issue in your brain?”</p><p>“Shit, what’s that supposed to mean?” You laughed heartedly, fearing the alcohol had gotten to your head too. “You ask if there’s something wrong with me, is that what you’re trying to say?” Clint nodded, chuckling breathily. “Why? Just because I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in my life?”</p><p>“There’s gotta be something in there,” he tapped his forehead. “Daddy issues?”</p><p>You hummed in disapproval shaking your head. “I have an amazing relationship with my dad—with my parents, really. I visit them almost every weekend, and they come if I can’t go. Look, I like being with guys,” you rose your palms in a defensive manner. “I just don’t know how to handle them because I’ve never been too interested in serious relationships. I was always a bookworm and studied a lot, and I worked a lot too, and so I never really had the time growing up, but it’s not like my parents didn’t give me permission to date,” you confessed. “I earned their trust. They raised me very well,” you played with the collar of your leather jacket. “Now I got this cool job that allows me to work from home, but then I cannot find guys anymore,” you shrugged. “I think I’m at that age that I only find idiots. I don’t mean to get married soon,” you clarified, “but there’s no one that has ever made me feel all blown away. I love my own space, I love my freedom, and I can go without sex because there are toys and there’s porn,” you confessed. “I don’t see why I must have a man by my side to be happy. My life’s pretty good without one.” </p><p>“Ouch,” Clint winced and placed a hand to his heart. </p><p>“You cannot possibly be offended by that,” you chuckled lightly.</p><p>“Why not? Don’t I have the right to be offended for not being the man in your life?”</p><p>You chuckled lightly. “You’re late for the party, I already have way too many men in my life that are very important to me,” you said in an apologetic voice. Clint widened his eyes. “My dad, my boss, the postman, the delivery guy,” you listed with your fingers. </p><p>“The postman is more important to you than I am?” You couldn’t tell if Clint was actually being serious or not, but if he was you were having way too much fun about it.</p><p>“Well, I don’t see you bringing any of my useless AliExpress purchases,” you stated in a matter-of-factly voice. “Neither have I seen you bringing my Jolse stuff,” you pointed a finger gun at him. “Mr. Fred does that for me.”</p><p>“I can’t believe I have to compete with a postman, I—”</p><p>“You don’t have to compete with him,” you said in a sympathetic voice as you reached out your hand over the table to place it on top of his. “You already lost that battle,” you pursed your lips to stop yourself from laughing hard at him. “So should I be prying into your love life now or do we call it quits for this round?”</p><p>“Let’s call it quits,” he laughed.</p><p>He invited you to his apartment, and though you really didn’t want to stay over, you accepted only under the excuse that it was late and you didn’t want to call an Uber home because it would be too expensive to get you home. Clint was the happiest to accept you in his house, and he couldn’t hide it, well he didn’t really try to. <br/>His apartment was undoubtedly new, and so were some of the things inside it. There were two bedrooms, but there was only one with a bed; you assumed it was his bedroom. You walked in, and though it wasn’t completely furnished, you could tell Clint had put the most important and essential things first: a night table, a wardrobe, and various pictures of him and Natasha mostly, but others with the rest of the team. </p><p>In most of the pictures with Natasha, if not all, she and Clint were holding each other closely. One in particular caught your attention; it was one where he was kissing the redhead’s cheek and she was smiling widely and had her arms around his shoulder. You didn’t really feel jealous, but you were intrigued about what kind of relationship they had, because your first encounter she made you feel really intimidated, and you’d bet your ass that if you hadn’t been holding on to Clint that night, she wouldn’t have mentally killed you a hundred times.</p><p>You walked out of his room and towards the kitchen-living room, realizing you’d probably have to sleep with him in his bed, because you weren’t that much of a dick to tell him to sleep in the couch, and you wouldn’t do it either.</p><p>“I’ve got some of Nat’s clothes that might fit you, if you want something else, you can totally look through my stuff and borrow something from there,” Clint said carelessly as he prepared some tea. You were a bit cold and you suggested having something warm to drink so you wouldn’t wake up with a terrible hangover. You were no longer in your twenties—either of you.</p><p>“What’s going on with you and Nat?” You asked in an innocent voice, even though all you wanted was to know a bit about her just to have a clear idea about what intentions she had with Bailey. The two of them had been going strong, but you needed another insight of the redhead. “Have you two known each other for a while?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Clint nodded absentmindedly. “We’re… really close,” the way he said it seemed as if he was hiding a big chunk of trash under the rug. A chunk you were decided to uncover. </p><p>“I don’t like the sound of that,” you cleared your throat. “Wanna elaborate?”</p><p>“It’s kinda hard to describe my relationship with Nat,” he turned around, leaving a mug in front of you. His face had turned serious and though your brain told you to stop digging, your gut screamed to keep asking because you could find out more than you expected. “I wasn’t always a good guy, and though it’s been very long since then, I’m not proud of what I did,” Clint shook his head lightly. “And Nat…” he hesitated. “Well, she knows what I used to do, and I know what she used to do…” he looked at you and shrugged one shoulder. “With her, it goes a long way back,” he explained.</p><p>“So she keeps your secrets and you keep hers?” You asked cocking an inquisitive eyebrow.</p><p>“Yeah, something like that,” he nodded. You thought you’d be accustomed to Clint being very vocal about some things and very vague and secretive about other things, but you weren’t. His life and whoever was in it was a topic that, apparently, needed a high clearance level to have access to. </p><p>There was something so intriguing to Clint that you just needed to find out no matter the cost, but two months later of seeing each other in a friendly manner made it hard to decide if it was pure journalistic interest or a real interest. He was fun to be around, but his many secrets and layers often seemed like a wall you constantly bumped into.</p><p>“Sounds like a conversation we’re gonna have later,” you said before giving your tea a big sip.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” </p><p>“It means that I wanna dig on that, but not right now,” you replied in a matter of factly voice. “I don’t feel well enough to do it… so I’m gonna do it later—when I’m not drunk. Later,” you chuckled breathily.</p><p>“Later,” he repeated, smiling softly, “that means we’re gonna see each other again? I’d like that—a lot actually.”</p><p>“There’s gonna be a later only if you promise to behave,” you winked and gave your tea another sip.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Breakfast time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your alarm clock went off under your pillow and you weren’t in the mood to start the day. You had spent the night in an apartment that wasn’t your and you were with a man that clearly wanted more than a fun conversation. You rolled on your back to see him, and his soft expression gave you a sense of calm that you appreciated. </p><p>You wondered if Clint could really get to sleep deeply, with all the things he had been a witness of. It was no secret that the Avengers also had their bad days, their losing days, and you started to think about how Clint dealt with that. You lids closed heavily as you got lost in that thought, but the alarm clock went off again, 9 minutes later.</p><p>You gently got off the bed, trying to pick up your clothes silently and head for the bedroom door, but the noise of the covers moving and rubbing made you look back.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Clint asked from behind you. His eyes were still closed.</p><p>“I’m gonna go make breakfast—I gotta go,” you whispered.</p><p>“It’s Saturday morning, (Y/N),” he yawned loudly. “Can’t you stay here a little bit more?” He tapped the spot on the bed in which you had been before. “Please?” He pouted childishly, and you mentally swooned over him. He was incredibly cute and charming, and apparently, mornings were the moment of the day that he looked his best.</p><p>Clint was stupidly attractive. He had this toughness and roughness from a life full of hardship, and all of it chiseled the man you had before you, but his morning look was completely different. His naked torso and scruffy hair made him look vulnerable, human. He was no longer the Avenger that saved the world every now and then, he was just Clint Barton, a guy who had been through enough bad shit.</p><p>“Sorry, can’t do,” you chuckled and tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth, fighting the urge to slid back inside the covers. “I’m meeting my parents in a few hours. They’re gonna pick me up and I’m gonna stay with them until Tuesday.”</p><p>“Oh, your loving parents,” Clint nodded sleepily. “Right. I’ll get breakfast done, you get in the shower,” with his eyes closed, he moved the covers away and got up walking like a zombie. You couldn’t argue with a great plan. Before he got out of the room, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and you couldn’t help but to smile widely.<br/>The smile didn’t leave your face until you were out of the shower, and once you were ready, you walked to the kitchen and found the island covered in bowls of different breakfast items: juice, biscuits, eggs, bread, fruit, you name it. Clint was waiting for the coffee machine to be ready, and turned around when he heard your footsteps behind him.</p><p>“Ahh,” he exclaimed, placing a hand on his chest and smiling dreamily. “As pretty as I remember,” he said in a charming voice. “You’re really a sight for sore eyes, (Y/N).”</p><p>“Are you always so full of shit, Clint? Or is it just a morning thing?” You chuckled loudly. “But let’s get real, has anything you say ever worked with someone?”</p><p>“Maybe,” he placed the mug in front of you. “Is it working now?”</p><p>“Not at all,” you took a short sip from the, still hot, coffee and shook your head lightly. “If anything, I liked you more last night.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, when you tricked me into wanting something but then not really, right?”</p><p>“I never specified what I wanted,” you chuckled. “Besides, I can back off anytime if I don’t feel like going on,” you pointed out. “It’s called consent, old man, look it up.”</p><p>“I know,” he nodded. “I’m only a bit older than you, I should know what consent means,” he stated in a matter-of-factly voice. “I’ve been practicing before it was cool—but enough of that, I wanna know something,” you pointed a finger gun at him and mouthed shoot. “I wanna know how your relationship with your parents is, and why are you so overly attached to them.”</p><p>“I’m not overly attached to them,” you said, feeling slightly offended. “I just love them in a healthy way, and I appreciate them and I do enjoy spending time with them. They had me very early in their marriage, and they stuck only with me, so it’s always been the three of us, like the musketeers. Because D’Artagnan only had a letter with him, nothing else!” You complained. “I had a really good childhood in Jersey, with them.”</p><p>“What do you do if you don’t want to see them? Or if they don’t want to see you?”</p><p>“They are less direct to say that they don’t want to see me,” you admitted. “They’ll go and say something like… they are having a friend over, or that they are getting the garage cleaned or that the house is dirty,” you chuckled. “But if I don’t wanna see them I’ll just say I’m not in the mood and they’re really cool about it—we’re all grown-ups, and we understand that sometimes we just don’t wanna see each other, but it doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other. Enough about my relationship with my parents, what about your family? Do you have one?”</p><p>“Well, my folks died when I was really young, and I have a brother but we don’t talk anymore. I’m pretty much on my own—I mean I have the team, which is getting bigger and bigger each passing second, and I also have Nat…” he shrugged. There she was again.</p><p>“You talk about her as if she was apart from the team,” you pointed out. “Like she was something else, maybe bigger? Or more important?”</p><p>“Kind of,” he tilted his head to both sides. “I know Nat from before I joined SHIELD, and at that time, she wasn’t SHIELD. I brought her to my boss, and that’s it.”</p><p>“Remember last night I said that I wanted to dig on your relationship with Nat, but that it’d do it later?” Clint nodded. “Now is later,” you pursed your lips. “I wanna know.”</p><p>“Why do you wanna know?” He knit his brows in a questioning manner. “What’s so interesting about her or my relationship with her?”</p><p>“If you and I are gonna see each other more often,” you pointed quickly at him and at yourself, “and if she’s gonna continue to be with my friend, I’m gonna need a bit more intel on what the hell is going on between you two, because when we met she was about to pounce over me and gauge my eyes out for being too close to you; even if she was with Bailey. Besides, you’ve got a lot of pictures in your room, specifically with her…”</p><p>“You jealous?” Clint teased, but at the unfriendly way that your eyes rolled, he got serious again. “In this job you get lonely a lot. It’s difficult to find someone to trust, and Natasha had many things I looked for in a person—not necessarily romantic, but that came along with time. We’re friends, just friends, but somehow we end up together,” he gulped. “Sometimes it’s serious, and other times it’s not so much. It comes and goes, really,” he shrugged and pursed his lips. “We are very exclusive about each other, I’ve been with other people before and she didn’t like it. She’s been with people too and I didn’t like it but now…” his voice weakened and he looked at his hands.</p><p>“But now?” You said in a demanding voice.</p><p>“She’s with your friend, and she seems pretty happy with her. Look, I really wanna see you more often, (Y/N), and I understand if you feel like she’s gonna become a thing between us, but she’s not.”</p><p>“How?” You cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>“I like you,” Clint smiled gently. “And I’d love to spend more time with you.”</p><p>“You’re always so full of shit, aren’t you?” You chuckled lightly and shook your head. “If you ever dare to hurt me, Clint Barton,” you pointed a menacing finger at him, “you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your goddamned existence.</p><p>For the first time in a couple of weeks, Clint thought about the bet he had with Nat. He didn’t really like (Y/N)—it was a heat of the moment thing to say, but he was truly okay with the fact that Natasha was seeing someone else—he hadn’t been okay with that situation in a very long time; maybe it was a sort of closure, like a way of saying goodbye to the crazy unspoken thing between them, and though he hated to make (Y/N) his way of closing, he was going to enjoy having some peace of mind at last. </p><p>“I’m gonna go,” you cleaned the corners of your lips with the napkin and made a small ball out of it and left it next to your mug. “I swear I’ll clean our breakfast another time, but right I really gotta go,” you pursed your lips and started picking your stuff.</p><p>“You owe me,” he noted.</p><p>“I know I do,” you walked towards him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Don’t get too excited,” you whispered. “We’re only gonna see each other more often,” you made your way to the door quickly and closed it behind you.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Check in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<i>I’ve missed you a lot you pair of idiots. Let’s meet out somewhere.</i>”</p><p>Natasha’s message was clear enough to gather the three avengers together at the bar they usually hung out at. Clint was a little nervous, the bet was about to end in a couple of weeks and though he knew he could keep it together, truth was that he liked (Y/N) very much and he wanted a way out of the whole thing, but he knew Natasha way too well to even consider the possibility of not holding his part of the deal. The redhead would surely give him hell for the rest of his life. </p><p>The trio didn’t see each other as often now. Bucky was often out of the country, Natasha was busy with Bailey, and Clint shared a lot of time with (Y/N) now that they had made it official a couple of weeks ago. As far as Nat knew, there hadn’t been an exchange of love words, but they seemed pretty happy. She was ready to move into Clint’s apartment soon. </p><p>Natasha was just as happy with Bailey, but it was not the first time that she couldn’t stop thinking about Clint. In past relationships, the two would sneak out and be with each other for a while. Nat had no problem admitting she loved Clint more than anyone, and it had been like that for a very long time, but the one thing she wouldn’t admit was that she was feeling jealous because if Clint didn’t want to get away with her it meant that he was happy with someone else. </p><p>She was afraid to lose Clint, and this time, it could be forever.</p><p>And so her plan began. The trick was to make Clint drunk and fast, but the archer wasn’t keen on drinking too much because he and (Y/N) were leaving for wine country and Yosemite National Park, they had a mid-day flight and he didn’t want to be hangover. So he went easy on the liquid, to Nat’s misfortune. </p><p>“Going away for the whole week? Sounds kinda lovey to me,” Bucky said carelessly. It was hard to keep up with the bet since he didn’t really care. The one thing that he feared was that the group would break, but he did like seeing Clint happier. “How’s that going? Nat said you made it official.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Clint shrugged carelessly. “She hasn’t spilled the beans yet, but I’m sure she’s gonna do it. I’m thinking on having a nice dinner at Yosemite, under the sequoias and shit. Romantic stuff for the ladies, don’t you think?” Clint teased. “Natasha,” He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I think you’re gonna have to start doing the paperwork to put your car to my name. (Y/N) is ready to drop the L bomb, it’s just a matter of time.”</p><p>“You sure?” Nat slowly unwrapped herself from her friend’s embrace. “I think it’s you who’s gonna say it first,” she teased. “I see how you look at her, you doe-eyed idiot. I can smell the love out of you. Going to Yosemite? We planned that trip for the three of us,” she scoffed. “Start clearing your apartment—or better, I think you and I are gonna live there very soon.”</p><p>“What about Bailey?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked her…”</p><p>“Well I do. She’s pretty amazing,” Nat said. “But there’s this one relationship that I cannot get over. I don’t seem to be over it either,” she looked at Clint with naughty eyes. “It’s been a long list of people to try and get over that, yet… here we are. I cannot wait until this is over so we can all go back to the way we were… because once this is over it’s gonna be over forever, right?” She looked at Clint in a threatening way. </p><p>“I suppose, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna be with you,” Clint replied with a smug. “I might even go on and find someone else,” he played with the collar of his jacket in a teasing way. “You know, Nat? I have to admit that being exclusive of someone else has been quite refreshing. I feel like I don’t even miss you at all,” he chuckled.</p><p>“Is it so?” Natasha replied calmly, even though all she wanted that to leap over Clint and take his life. “It breaks my heart.”</p><p>“Can you two leave the sexual tension for when I’m not here?” Bucky complained, taking the drink to his lips and giving it a long sip. “I have not missed this at all,” he rolled his eyes. “So, you sure you’re okay with all of this Nat?” Bucky asked. “Are you gonna break up with Bailey after this?”</p><p>“I might,” the redhead shrugged carelessly. “I really miss my Barton,” she pouted. “Besides, Barton and I come such a long way back that it’s hard not to be jealous of his new pet… But I’m sure I’ll get over it—as will him, of course.”</p><p>“You know,” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t even know why I asked since I don’t care about this,” he chuckled lightly. “All I want is to drink and be with you guys because, believe it or not, I have missed you, but not your couple’s-drama. If you’re gonna talk about that, I can might as well leave.”</p><p>“No, don’t go,” Nat wrapped her arms around her long-time friend. “You know you’re the only one in our hearts,” she kissed his cheek loudly. </p><p>“Yeah, what she said,” Clint nodded. “I’m not gonna kiss you though.”</p><p>The three friends stayed drinking a bit more, and Clint kept a close eye on his drinks. He knew Natasha could use any resource to get what she wanted, and in this case, it was the truth on whether Clint loved (Y/N) or not. They planned more things for when the bet period was over.</p><p>He wasn’t sure himself about it. If he had a checklist on love, he could probably tick most of the boxes, if not all, but there was the thing with the bet that he couldn’t shake off. He never thought he’d make it this far, and for some time now, he was having too many seconds thoughts. </p><p>He kept a close eye on his drinks, just in case Natasha tried something weird, and walked back home feeling only warm from the alcohol. He was tired and longed to be in the comfort of his bed, and as he approached his apartment, he checked his phone. He had a message from (Y/N), whom he had told about the night out with the group.</p><p>“<i>Have a great time, tell them I said hi.</i>” The text read.</p><p>“<i>Came home earlier. I was feeling a bit rusty. It’s hard to keep up with two super soldiers. Besides we’re flying tomorrow. Kinda missed you tonight.</i>”</p><p>He sent the text before he could delete the last part. Deep inside, he knew it wasn’t a lie. He missed (Y/N) whenever she wasn’t there, and he enjoyed her company so much that he wished the bet wasn’t still so he could bring her everywhere he wanted without having to hide his unsure feelings for her.</p><p>“A<i>ww, you’re so sweet Barton. Go to sleep soon so we can meet for breakfast early tomorrow. Sleep tight.</i>” She replied. What was strange to him was that she didn’t tease him, maybe it was reciprocal, and maybe, just maybe she had feelings for him too.</p><p>Clint shook his head lightly. No, it couldn’t be. And with that last doubt in mind, he fell asleep.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Lunchtime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“What are you doing here?” You whispered, with your head in between the door and the frame. “Clint, I told you I couldn’t see you today,” you hissed. “I’ll call you later—”</p>
<p>“Honey, who’s there?” Your mom asked from behind you.</p>
<p>“Nothing, ma—” you said, but Clint slowly opened the door enough to be noticed by your visitors. He wasn’t aware that you had your parents coming over, though you did say you had people over for lunch; he would use this opportunity to make you fall for him by being extremely charming and nice. “He was just leaving…”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You and Bailey had recently rented a new apartment and it was your turn to have people over. The old one was way too old for such a high rent, so with Nat and Clint’s help, you got ahold of a new one. It was closer to work and it had the kitchen separate from the rest of the house, something you had been wanting a lot. It even had a small balcony to keep a couple of seats and plants.</p>
<p>Your parents had only seen the place through videocalls, but this weekend, they decided to pay you a visit and bring you a housewarming gift, along with some lunch your mom prepared earlier. It was all perfect because it had been a few weeks since you last saw them, and you missed them a little. You hadn’t planned to have anyone else over, so when you heard the doorbell your first thought went to Bailey forgetting something, or your new postman. But the surprise in the hallway wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” You whispered, with your head in between the door and the frame. “Clint, I told you I couldn’t see you today,” you hissed. “I’ll call you later—”</p>
<p>“Honey, who’s there?” Your mom asked from behind you.</p>
<p>“Nothing, ma—” you said, but Clint slowly opened the door enough to be noticed by your visitors. He wasn’t aware that you had your parents coming over, though you did say you had people over for lunch; he would use this opportunity to make you fall for him by being extremely charming and nice. “He was just leaving…”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” your mom chuckled. “He can stay, there’s enough food for all of us. Though I’m afraid Bailey won’t get to taste this.”</p>
<p>“Too bad for her, I suppose,” Clint closed the door behind him and walked over to your mom. “I’m Clint Barton, nice to meet you,” he shook her hand gently.</p>
<p>“Robbie, come meet your daughter’s friend!” Your mom called loudly. “I’m Lydia, this girl’s older sister, nice to meet you too,” she pulled you closer to hug you from behind.</p>
<p>“Mo-om,” you groaned, feeling utterly mortified. “Pay no attention to this woman, she’s lost it, obviously.”</p>
<p>“I thought you said you were cool with them,” Clint cocked an eyebrow.</p>
<p>You never introduced any men to them because no one had made it this far. Clint was literally the first guy to make it to the half a year milestone, and though you were more official than not, you were not sure to introduce him to your parents, especially since you hadn’t really labeled the relationship. And your parents took advantage of it to act like social savages, of course. </p>
<p>And Clint was only beginning to enjoy meeting your parents.</p>
<p>“I am,” you nodded, placing your hands on top of your mom’s; she still had you well secured in her arms. “It’s just that she gets a little crazy whenever there’s a man in my life. She’d get like this even if it was Mr. Fred with just my mail,” you shrugged. “By the way, I think I should call him and thank him for being such a good man,” you looked at Clint teasingly.</p>
<p>“I cannot believe you still think about him,” Clint said in a gloomy voice. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna get your dad,” your mom loosened the grip around you and quickly walked to the kitchen.</p>
<p>“What the hell are you doing here, they are gonna get so awkward—” you whispered.</p>
<p>“So, my baby girl’s got a friend I don’t know about?” Your dad roared as he made his way to the living room. “Who the hell are you?”</p>
<p>“Clint Barton, sir,” Clint looked at him and smiled widely. The archer reached out his hand to shake your dad’s, but he wasn’t expecting such a tight grip from him. “Nice to meet you.”</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you too,” your dad nodded his head lightly. “Robin (Y/L/N).”</p>
<p>“Mom, Clint, can you guys get the table ready while dad and I bring the dishes?” You curled your arm around your dad’s. “Beware, Barton,” you teased. “Don’t be fooled by the innocent look on her face. She’s the one you should be afraid of,” you tugged at your bottom lip. “Ma, don’t go too hard on him.”</p>
<p>When you and your dad got inside the kitchen you groaned loudly and started getting the plates out. Your dad turned on the oven to put the pot with your mom’s delicious stew. He looked at you from over your shoulder and chuckled lightly. </p>
<p>“What’s so funny?” You asked in an unfriendly voice.</p>
<p>“Who’s that guy? Is he really your friend? Am I missing something?” Your dad wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.</p>
<p>“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, but it’s nothing too serious. He wasn’t supposed to be here anyways,” you shook your head, “and you weren’t supposed to meet until I made sure he’s not a total freak, but I’m starting to think you were the ones I should be scared of.”</p>
<p>“Understand us, sweetie,” he kindly reminded you. “It’s the first time in all your life that you’ve formally introduced a love interest to us, girlfriend or boyfriend. It’s kind of a big deal for us. We thought you’d given up hope on love.”</p>
<p>“Just because you haven’t met any of the men I’ve been with doesn’t mean I don’t get around.”</p>
<p>“I cannot say we haven’t met some of the guys you’ve been with,” your dad shrugged one shoulder. “Some of them were idiots that called to the house to ask for you—not the smartest move, if you ask me,” he rose his palms in a defensive manner. “Now let’s serve these and help Clint before your mom rips his head off.”</p>
<p>“Ozzy Osborne style,” you huffed.</p>
<p>You two carried the plates back to the dining table and found your mom and Clint cheerfully talking. Clint was really charming, and it was hitting a soft spot in your heart to see him like that, so careless and open with someone he hadn’t met before. You wondered if your mom had found the walls you often bumped into. Your dad went to sit next to her and you all started eating.</p>
<p>“Lydia, I gotta hand it to you,” Clint pointed with his fork at the half-empty plate, “this is amazing. (Y/N) didn’t lie when she said your cooking was the best,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and rolled your eyes. “Can you lend me a Tupperware to bring some of this home?” He asked you.</p>
<p>“First name basis?” You cocked your eyebrow. “That’s a bold move.”</p>
<p>“So, Clint Barton, what are your intentions with my daughter?” Your dad wasn’t a serious man, but his face was intimidating whenever he wanted. You stepped on his foot softly under the table, while your mom lightly slapped his arm. Even if you looked at him with your eyes wide open, your dad kept a dead-serious expression, very different from the man wiggling his eyebrows back in the kitchen. </p>
<p>“(Y/N) and I are just really good friends,” Clint said calmly, flashing a smile to your parents. “Besides, because of my line of work, (Y/N) seems to have developed an interest in me—ouch,” you kicked him from under the table. “I think I bit my tongue. Well,” he stopped your foot before you could stomp him again, “since (Y/N) writes about heroes at the journal, we’ve become quite close ever since we met.”</p>
<p>“Your line of work?” Your mom knit her brows together. “What exactly do you do for a living? I didn’t get to ask that while we were alone.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to tell these guys if you can’t or don’t want to,” you assured him.</p>
<p>“Of course we want to know!” Your dad complained. “If it’s secret, it’s safe with us.”</p>
<p>“I’m an Avenger. The guy with the arrows?” Your parents looked at him with incredulous faces. “Well, that’s me.”</p>
<p>“Save your hero questions, dad, please,” you rubbed your temple. “He is, he truly is.”</p>
<p>You lowered your walls slowly as you saw Clint bonding with your parents so easily. You started wondering if he was truly a man to be trusted, even though you’d spent the last ten months hanging out with him, and kissing, and sleeping with him and doing a lot of couples’ stuff. You could still notice how he had some of his walls up, regarding his friends and the things he had to endure during his life, but since you had some sort of access to those things, it didn’t matter to you.</p>
<p>You looked over at your mom, she was the most silent between all of you, and you figured she must’ve been analyzing Clint. She was good at that, almost as good as Bailey, but you trusted your mom’s gut better; it had helped you more times and for more time. After lunch, she told you to help her with dessert, and you left the two man talking about Clint’s adventures overseas and such. </p>
<p>“He seems like a good guy,” your mom said as she carefully took the cheesecake out of its box. You knew it couldn’t be just that. “But, if you ask for my opinion, he’s got a bunch of secrets and walls, and I don’t think you want to spend time trying to bring them down, because I can tell he’s built them strong and thick enough so no one could trespass them.”</p>
<p>“Mom, we’re not gonna get married,” you left smaller plates on the counter and handed her a knife. “We’re just… friends, we’re seeing each other and that’s it.”</p>
<p>“Honey,” she sighed. “I know you don’t plan to get married, but listen to me. This guy is an expert at hiding stuff; he’s got a tough life that he clearly doesn’t wanna share, at least not all of it. And I get it, no one wants to share everything—I haven’t shared everything with your dad,” she placed a hand on her chest, “as I assume he hasn’t shared everything with me,” she pointed at the door. “But I don’t want you to waste your time into trying to get him to talk, because all you’re gonna find is the wall you just slammed into. And you’re not gonna like it. I’m sure you’ve hit yourself a few times by now.”</p>
<p>“You got all that from a few minutes with him?” You cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t ask for this gift,” she clicked her tongue and shrugged. “Now let’s get these to the table before they start wondering what’s going on,” she chuckled, taking two plates in her hands. “Do think about what I said, okay?” You opened the door for her and took the two other plates and followed her back to the table.</p>
<p>It was true, you had hit a lot of walls with Clint in the time that you’d been together, and though it frustrated you that he was so secretive about everything, you couldn’t help the need to find it out. It wasn’t just for journaling anymore, you had developed a serious interest in him, and since you were doing couples’ stuff, you could say you even lo… No. Not that. </p>
<p>“(Y/N), you alright?” Clint asked, placing a hand on top of the one you had resting on the table. “You seem off, or are you having a sugar overdose?”</p>
<p>“It must be that,” you chuckled softly and shook your head. “This is amazing, but way too sweet for me,” you pushed the plate a bit further away from you. “Did you like it?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Clint nodded.</p>
<p>“Honey, help me with the dishes please,” you mom tapped your dad’s arm and the two started picking up everything. “We’re gonna head off, there’s this show your dad doesn’t wanna miss,” she rolled her eyes, “and he’s got some beers in the cooler to fully enjoy it.”</p>
<p>“All I’m saying is that if I’m not eating the amazing stuff they make in Master Chef, then at least I should be enjoying myself,” your dad shrugged his shoulders in an innocent manner</p>
<p>“You can say that again, Robbie,” Clint nodded. You looked at him with an overly impressed look. “What?” He asked. “I enjoy Master Chef in a healthy amount,” he said in a high pitched voice. “And I may or may not have seen other countries’ versions of it.” </p>
<p>“Why am I even surprised with you,” you sighed. </p>
<p>Your parents cleaned the dishes in a matter of minutes and then came back to say goodbye. Needless to say, they were very charmed with Clint, except for your mom, who was a bit more wary about him, but she had already expressed her concern to you. She held you tightly before leaving, and you were left alone with Clint and many thoughts about him.</p>
<p>Bailey wouldn’t comeback because she had been on a romantic getaway with Natasha for the last couple of days, and they would come back later in the night, but they would crash at the spy’s apartment since you kindly asked your friend to have the apartment for yourself and Clint.</p>
<p>“We’re all alone,” Clint said in a flirty voice, sneaking from behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I liked your parents, they’re cool. I couldn’t picture how they were in real life, I couldn’t make an image of them in my head even though I saw the pictures on your wall,” he rested his head on your shoulder.</p>
<p>“Well, now you do,” you tapped his hands. “They’re good guys, but socially awkward when they do something for the first time.”</p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>“I’ve never introduced anyone to them, that’s why they were acting so weird at first. I hope you didn’t mind.”</p>
<p>“N—no, it’s alright,” Clint stuttered.</p>
<p>It must’ve been the first time that you heard him struggling with words or being flustered. It wasn’t common, he was always in control of everything, from words to actions, so it was hard for him to ever fluster. You found it kinda cute, and rethought the possibility of being in… No, that couldn’t be.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. He knows, she knows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint couldn’t help to feel troubled after meeting your parents. He had already admitted to Bucky he liked you. He liked you a lot and had thought of backing up from the bet many times, but backing up would mean that he had to move from his new apartment for no reason. He knew he wanted the cake and eat it too, and that was not possible in the real world. But he didn’t want to stop seeing you one day, before either one said the L word, only to talk to you right after he got the car; it wasn’t fair for you.</p><p>You two were watching TV, eating some more of the cheesecake your mom had brought for lunch and Clint couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. You looked beautiful, even with crumbs around your lips. He leaned over to wipe them away with his thumb and the way you smiled at him, so childishly, made his heart beat so loud he was afraid it would be audible.</p><p>Clint thumbed at your cheek lovingly, taking in every detail that your skin provided, as if he feared he’d forget how it felt. You looked at him with curious eyes; he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to do a cute thing like that. He was more a words and very physical demonstrations of affection more than anything else.</p><p>“What?” You asked in a whisper.</p><p>“You had crumbs on your face,” he said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to eat while I’m kissing you. I’d rather eat other things,” he shrugged, killing the romantic mood, and then you remembered that he was not exactly the little details guy. You pursed your lips and sighed heavily, with your hand still on your face. </p><p>“You’re such a dick, Barton,” you said in a low voice, and finished cleaning yourself.</p><p>You got up from the couch to leave your plate on the sink and Clint followed, even after telling him you had no problem taking his too. But right before you could leave the kitchen back to the living room, he placed his hands on your hips and pushed you gently against the countertop in front of the sink. </p><p>“Clint, what the—” he didn’t say anything, but he had you already sitting on the cold countertop. He placed soft kisses along your cheek and down your jawline while his hands roamed down your thighs to help you wrap your legs around his waist. “The TV is on,” you whispered, trying to ignore the chills that his lips on your neck gave you.</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll help you pay that bill,” he said carelessly; you would try to remember to take up his words, but in the meantime, you’d enjoy yourself.</p><p>You placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him closer to kiss him, but there was something odd about all of this. Even though Clint would be the one to start most of your make out sessions that more often than not ended up in sex, he wasn’t the kind of guy to seem needy about it. He was really good at keeping his cool, almost as if he didn’t want it—but his body was louder than words, and this time was no different. He wanted you, he desired you more than he could ever say or admit.</p><p>You held on to his shoulders and tightened your legs around his waist, he lifted you from the counter and walked to your room with you well secured in his arms. Clint softly placed you on the bed and took his shirt off. It was always mesmerizing to see the roughness of his perfectly carved body; the lines and scars that composed his torso, the shape of his muscles, the trail of light hair down his abs. It was all part of an amazing pack.</p><p>You tossed your shirt away and made a beckoning sign at him. Clint climbed over you and gently pushed you down onto the mattress with only his body. He kissed you as if it was the last time he would get to kiss you; there was so much longing in that kiss that you felt overwhelmed, but most of all, you felt desired.</p><p>He kissed down your jawline, pulling down your bra straps as he went down. You arched your back to try to unclasp it, but Clint helped you take it away. He kissed down your chest, fondling your breasts gently. He kept his way down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. With his hands on your thighs, he moved them apart and placed himself in between them. He kissed his way towards your throbbing pussy and he teased with his thick fingers your clit and your entrance. You whined softly and arched your back from the mattress.</p><p>“Good girl,” he called.</p><p>He swiftly licked upwards the whole length of your pussy, taking special attention to your aching pussy, making you moan louder. He loved to tease you, and more than once he’d done it in public; it was probably when you liked him the most. </p><p>He buried himself in between your thighs, working you at a constant pace. Your hands intertwined with his hair to keep him in place, and the wet sounds of your body were replaced by the profanities that escaped from your lips.</p><p>“Fuck,” you panted. “I’m gonna—”</p><p>And before you could prepare yourself for it, Clint slid two fingers inside you and picked up a faster pace. Your body was shaking completely and you could no longer have any control of yourself. You came blissfully, not to mention loudly. You panted, trying to catch your breath, and Clint climbed on top of you again and pressed his lips to yours. Clint had many, many good things, and perhaps sex was one of his best. He knew what to do, like the basic stuff, but then he came up with another repertoire and it was enough to leave you shaking. Since you were rather tired, it didn’t last really long, but it way past just “good enough”.</p><p>Clint’s forehead was pressed against yours and you both tried to catch your breaths. Your hands were on the sides of his face, as if you feared that he’d run away somehow. You stroke his cheek lightly, feeling a smile growing wider on your lips.</p><p>“What, weirdo?” Clint chuckled breathily. “Why so happy?”</p><p>You looked at him and realized why. “Nothing,” you shook your head lightly and unwrapped your arms from him. He rolled over to your side and rested his arm across your stomach. He drew shapeless forms on your side with his rough fingers, tickling you and making you laugh childishly. Of course you knew why you were smiling like that. It was him. It was all about him and you weren’t afraid to admit it, even though you would keep it to yourself a little longer.</p><p>“Okay,” Clint nodded softly. He was dying to tell you how much he loved you, but he knew you knew it. It was impossible you didn’t—you’d have to be very oblivious to not have realized by now, and if there was something that he learnt from spending almost a whole year with you is that nothing went over your head. “Do you wanna get some sleep?” He said after what it seemed like an eternal silence between you. “Or would you like to get something to eat?” He moved the hand from your stomach to the side of your face and cupped it with his whole hand. “More cheesecake?”</p><p>“I think I don’t wanna eat another cheesecake in my life,” you groaned. “But I’m sure tomorrow I’ll be eating some for breakfast,” you chuckled softly. “I’m gonna go get cleaned and then I’ll just sleep. I had a bit of a long day… I had this guy crashing my lunch with my parents,” you tugged at you bottom lip. “He met them, and I’m sure he had a better time than I did,” you sighed heavily.</p><p>“What a dick,” Clint chuckled and softly pinched your cheek. “Go, before I take you and make you mine again,” he pulled you closer and started placing soft kisses on your neck that made you tickle more than anything else</p><p>“Geez, Barton,” you placed a hand on top of his. “Are you always so full of shit?” You tapped the back of his hand gently and got up to the bathroom, you couldn’t even be bothered to pick up your clothes from the floor.</p><p>Clint looked at you go to the hallway and started picking up the clothes that were scattered on the floor, and he hadn’t noticed until then that you kept a photo of the two of you on a gorgeous frame on top of your dresser. It was the first time you had gone away, and the destination was Yellowstone National Park. You had always wanted to go, and thanks to the help of Clint’s friends, you were able to go on a private jet. That was also the first time that you had done it, and the first time that Clint doubted if to carry on with the bet. He liked the picture, and though he had a copy of his own, seeing himself in someone else’s space was a reminder that this had gone way too far.</p><p>He put his clothes on and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before going to bed. He heard you coming out of the bathroom and gave you some time on your own, besides the night outside was pretty; the city lights gave a sense of calm that he couldn’t refuse to witness. </p><p>You patted the pillow under you and rested your head comfortably. You didn’t want to face Clint or the truth, but you were well damned sure you knew how you felt about him. The worst part was that the people whose opinions you cared about the most said it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. You were helplessly in love with Clint Barton, and with that last thought in mind, you fell asleep.</p><p>Clint came back to see you fast asleep and wrapped like a burrito in the covers. He stared at the ceiling for a while before falling sleep. He knew it—hell, he had known it for a while now, but he was such a coward that he wouldn’t admit it, not to anyone. The way you looked at him, and not only when you had sex, but there was something about your eyes that always seemed to lit up whenever he was around; or how you’d talk about the things you didn’t like with simplicity and no animosity. There was also something about what you did with your hair whenever you were nervous, or when your tapped the floor with your feet in uncomfortable situations. </p><p>He played in his head the many times he had seen you correcting your own posture when you were working up until ungodly hours at night. He’d usually make you a cup of tea and give you something to eat when you were at his apartment, but when you were on your own, he’d text you to remind you to get some sleep. </p><p>He cared about you, and he knew it might possibly be a part of getting to know you so that’s why he didn’t regret it, but the part that he regretted the most was having to admit that he was irrevocably in love with you.</p><p>It was no longer about the stupid bet that he shouldn’t have done in the first place, it was about you. It was all about you. He knew he’d have to come clean one day, the lie couldn’t go on forever, but he knew that the minute you found out, you’d hate him for the rest of your life. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that, but Clint was now in too deep to get out of it.</p><p>He sighed heavily, trying to come up with an idea, but since he was worn out, he decided to rest his body and mind for a few hours before doing something about you. He snuggled closer to you and crossed his arm over your side, pulling you close. </p><p>“I love you,” he whispered and placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “I love you so much, (Y/N).”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Bad timing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint woke up early that morning. He didn’t sleep really well, he had a couple of bad dreams that didn’t woke him up a few times during the night. Most of them were about you, about losing you or you being angry at him. He knew what he had to do, and he knew what was coming after he did it, but he would accept his fate no matter what.<br/>He got up in utter silence, fearing he’d wake you up, but you were deeply asleep, so getting out of bed was rather easy. He found in your desk a paper and pen, and quickly wrote down a note for you.</p><p>“<i>(Y/N), if you see this is just because I had to run some errands and I haven’t come back yet. My phone died, but I’ll come back later with lunch. There’s a little something I wanna tell you, nothing bad though, so don’t dwell too much over it. See you then.</i>”</p><p>He tried to write “I love you”, but if it was going to be the first time he mentioned it to you, it couldn’t be written down. He had to say it, with all of its letters and sounds. No matter if it ended up changing his life, he owed it to you.</p><p>It was very early, probably before 8 am, Clint wasn’t sure, he hadn’t checked beforehand, but all he knew was that he needed to call it quits. Luckily, you and Bailey had moved to an apartment that was fairly near Natasha’s. </p><p>He walked upstairs quickly and got to Nat’s door. He placed his fist before the door and wondered if he really wanted to do this. He knew that, no matter what, Natasha would hold up her part of the deal, but he wasn’t sure if she’d have any kind of resentment against him for having feelings for you. Natasha could be vicious if she wanted, and especially when it came to the relationship she and Clint had.</p><p>He took a deep breath, willing to face the consequences afterwards. “Natasha!” Clint pounded at the front door over at the redhead’s apartment. “Natasha, open up!”</p><p>Nat walked sleepily towards the door and grabbed a baggy shirt that laid on the floor from last night’s late arrival with Bailey. The redhead spy rubbed her eyes, she was so tired that she didn’t even bother to take off her make-up. She watched her finger with black mascara on it, and yawning loudly, she opened the door.</p><p>“Keep it down, dude,” she yawned loudly again, walking back to let him in. “It’s way too early,” she shook her head weakly.</p><p>“Nat, I’m done. You can have my apartment if you want, but I don’t want to lie to (Y/N) anymore. And you and I?” He pointed quickly at the redhead and himself. “We’re done too. Whatever we had in the past is not coming back. I’m in love with (Y/N) and I already told her that last night.”</p><p>“Barton, this is not a good time…” the redheaded looked at him with worried eyes. “Maybe we can talk this through later when I’m more awake and not jetlagged? Besides you and I ended long ago.”</p><p>“No, I can’t wait. Nat, this is the first time I’ve ever felt like this, and you know it. You’ve known me the longest. And I just can’t… I’m telling her I love her and that I wanna be with her. I’m telling her the truth.”</p><p>“Clint, I swear to god this is not a good time…” she pressed her index to her plump lips.</p><p>“This bet was stupid from the beginning and I shouldn’t—”</p><p>“So was my friend a bet?” Bailey walked out of the room dressed in Natasha’s clothing. Both avengers fell silent and looked at the woman with eyes wide open. “Any of you, answer,” she demanded. Clint had completely forgotten that the two had been away for the weekend and that they’d be crashing at the redhead’s apartment when they came back. He immediately regretted being so impulsive.</p><p>“Baby, this is not—”</p><p>“Don’t baby me,” Bailey scowled, her words were full of disdain and heartbreak. “Was my friend some wicked bet?” She asked in a louder and firmer voice, but since neither Clint nor Natasha gave her an answer, she shook her head heavily and sighed. “Goodbye, to both of you.”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The first confession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bailey walked with firm steps down the stairs at Natasha’s apartment. She wasn’t really good at handling bad news, so her stomach was feeling sick from all the sudden feeling of anxiety. Right behind her, Clint followed her closely. He knew he had screwed everything up, but at least Bailey needed to know the why and that he was deeply ashamed of what he had done.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bailey walked with firm steps down the stairs at Natasha’s apartment. She wasn’t really good at handling bad news, so her stomach was feeling sick from all the sudden feeling of anxiety. Right behind her, Clint followed her closely. He knew he had screwed everything up, but at least Bailey needed to know the why and that he was deeply ashamed of what he had done.</p><p>Natasha, feeling no remorse at all, started making herself some breakfast since she was already awake; it had no use to go back to bed. The fact that Bailey found out about the bet meant that the relationship between the two would be over, and the redhead would eventually go back to Clint’s arms as she always did, hopefully forever this time, though Clint wasn’t inclined to do so. He did say he loved (Y/N), but in the past, they always found their way to be together</p><p>“Bailey wait!” Clint called. “Bailey, come on—Bailey, listen to me!” He grabbed her arm and made her turn around. She tugged and tried to free herself from his grasp, but it was useless. “Please, just… listen to me,” he sighed heavily. “Please, just let me explain.”</p><p>“Explain what? That you’re some sort of sick bastard who plays with someone’s feelings just because you’re bored? I cannot believe you—”</p><p>“I know, and I deserve your hate—”</p><p>“We’re way past that, let me go,” she tugged again. “Barton, let me go!”</p><p>“No,” Clint said firmly. “Not until you hear me out. Yes, Natasha and I had a bet, and I’m not proud of it,” he shook his head slightly, “because I did not plan to fall in love with (Y/N), but I did. I fell so hard and right now I cannot imagine my life without her, and that’s all there is. That’s the whole truth.”</p><p>“Why making a bet in the first place? Why couldn’t you just come up to her like a normal person? What kind of sick psycho are you? When did this started? Why my friend?”</p><p>“It happened when we met at that bar about a year ago, I thought (Y/N) was pretty but I didn’t want to come up to her because I was not in the mood,” Clint admitted, lowering his head. “But then we danced, and we kissed… and then she seemed so uninterested in me, and then the bet just became more and more interesting, until it didn’t,” Clint looked at Bailey with glistening eyes. “I started having second thoughts some time ago, but I know Natasha, and I’m sure you know her too… She said she’d give me her car if I made (Y/N) fall in love with me, but if I didn’t, I would have to give up my apartment. I like a challenge, and (Y/N) seemed like a pretty good one… Look, it just happened, and now I regret it because I wanna be with (Y/N), even if she won’t say she loves me, because I know she does. I don’t care about Natasha’s car anymore, and I don’t care if I have to move out of my place… I just wanna be with (Y/N).”</p><p>“Of course she does, you dumb shit. Of course she loves you, because you did all the right things and checked all the right boxes, even if you were some secretive piece of garbage. Friends share stuff, you know?” Bailey nodded. “I cannot believe my friend was the means to get a car…” Bailey scoffed. “Work your ass for it, like normal people do. Look, if there’s any hint of a heart inside you, don’t you dare telling her over the phone. Besides it’ll be too late,” she sighed more calmly. “I’m gonna tell her.”</p><p>“What? No!” Clint exclaimed. “Just—just don’t,” he shook his head. “Why are you even gonna tell her? Shouldn’t that be me?”</p><p>“She deserves the truth, all of it. God knows what you’ll say to her,” she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Maybe you won’t even own up to it and blame it on Nat… can’t believe she was on board with this crap. I’m gonna tell her what I heard, nothing more.”</p><p>“You’re gonna hurt her…” Clint’s grasp on Bailey loosened.</p><p>“Yes,” Bailey nodded. “But friends don’t lie to each other, and I’m not the one who made a bet over her, now am I?” Clint lowered his head. “Look… I’m sorry,” she shook her head lightly. “I had a tiny piece of hope that you wouldn’t be a total dick.”</p><p>She started walking away, and Clint knew he had fucked up for good. He knew Bailey would tell you in person and that you’d want to confront him sooner than later. He had no hopes that you’d take him back, and he wasn’t even hoping for forgiveness—he wasn’t really sure what to expect, since it was the first time that Clint was going to see you angry.</p><p>He went to his apartment to take a shower and have some time to think before losing you forever.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The pretty lies; the ugly truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“(Y/N), we need to talk,” she said in a serious voice, sitting next to you. “It’s about him. I cannot sugarcoat this shit, so here goes nothing..."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bailey walked up the stairs of your shared apartment feeling extremely uneasy. She knew she had to confess the whole truth, even if it was hers, but she loved you way too much to keep you in the dark. Her tummy was rumbling and making horrible noises, and there was a huge knot in her throat that made her doubtful whether as to say the truth or not.</p><p>Your relationship with her was based on honesty, and it had been so since the earliest days of your friendship. Sometimes it was as simple as an unfitting piece of clothing, and others had to do with work or other important topics, but it was the first time that Bailey would say something that would crush you, because she knew you too well to know you wouldn’t take it too well. She thought of the best way to tell it, because honesty without a little sensitivity was just being an asshole.</p><p>She walked inside the apartment and found you watching TV with a cup of coffee well secured in your hands. You looked at her and smiled widely, it had been a couple of days since you last saw her, but your smile faded slowly when you noticed how anxious and on edge she was. </p><p>“Did you leave your stuff at Nat’s?” You asked.</p><p>“Uhh—yeah,” Bailey hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t with her stuff anymore, but she didn’t want any of it back. “I left in a bit of a rush,” Bailey walked near you. “What are you watching?”</p><p>“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “I just changed the channel. Hey, do you happen to know where Clint is? Did he stop by Nat’s place? He left really early this morning and he said he needed to talk when he came back… I’ve been trying to call him but I cannot get to him—I’m gonna try this again,” you grabbed your phone to try to call him, hoping his phone would be charged by then, but Bailey placed her hand on top of yours and looked at you with a ceremonious expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you furrowed your brows. “Is everything alright?”</p><p>“(Y/N), we need to talk,” she said in a serious voice, sitting next to you. “It’s about him. I cannot sugarcoat this shit, so here goes nothing,” Bailey took a deep breath, and her lips trembled, making you feel extremely worried. “Clint made a bet with Natasha and his other friend about making a girl fall in love with him… you were their target. I found out this morning, he went to Nat’s apartment to tell her he was calling it quits with the whole thing… he said he loves you.” </p><p>“Bailey, how elaborate will you get to make me not see him anymore?” You folded your arms over your chest and chuckled. “I like him, I like him a lot—I love him, I suppose…” </p><p>“(Y/N), have I ever lied to you?” Bailey said in a serious voice, it was the first time she had ever been this serious, not even at school she acted like this. “Tell me, have I?”</p><p>“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head. You were suddenly starting to accept the possibility that she was indeed not lying. “But come on, you have to admit that it sounds crazy.”</p><p>“What makes you think I would be lying right now? I know what I heard… I heard it from him and Nat, and I’m really sorry you had to find out from me, but I came as fast as I could just to tell you. It was a secret I couldn’t keep, even though I knew it would hurt you.” </p><p>“Okay, I think we can all agree that Clint is not the cleanest guy in the world, but you sound a bit crazy right now. Why would he make a bet? I mean, that’s low even for a guy like him,” you looked at Bailey, and her expression had not changed. It was true, she had never lied to you, and this wouldn’t be the first time, especially with something like this. She knew how important was Clint in your life now, the many things you had done together and the many more you had planned. A lump in your throat started to become harder and harder to swallow. “This cannot be true…” you said in a weak voice. “You must’ve been confused.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, (Y/N)… I’m so, so sorry,” Bailey shook her head softly. “I know what I heard, and I wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t true. I heard this from the main source, you know?” </p><p>“Where’s Clint?” You hurried to ask. “Is he gonna be here or what? Is he gonna explain this shit?” Your voice rose. “Am I gonna hear this crap from him?”</p><p>“I don’t know, he left Nat’s apartment when he saw me leaving and then stopped me to explain it, so I suppose he will come by later… He wanted to explain it to you, but I didn’t really trust he’d tell you the whole truth. It’s kinda why I’m telling you now,” Bailey’s voice was weak and cracking. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I know you love this guy, but you’re my best friend and—”</p><p>“Bailey, you’ve always hated his face,” you cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>“That’s true,” she conceded, “but it doesn’t mean I didn’t respect what you two had going on. Especially now that I know how you feel for him.”</p><p>“What about you and Nat?”</p><p>“That’s over—I could never compete against Barton. I guess I always knew, but…” she shrugged. “I’m more worried about you now.”</p><p>“I’m gonna go take a walk alright?” You pointed at the door. “I’m gonna leave my phone here, so if someone from work calls just say I’m in the shower, or sick, or anything you come up with. If it’s Clint just tell him that… we can meet at the coffee house that’s near here, in an hour. He knows which one. Thanks,” you were hyperventilating, and in all that fuzz inside your head, you got out of the door quickly. You didn’t know why you were thanking Bailey for since her usual dose of well-intended honesty was causing your mind to collapse.</p><p>And what seemed worst, your heart was about to break too, but you needed the answers first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Confrontation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clint had never been more terrified in his life. He fought bad guys often, but this was a different kind of fear. He was scared to even grab the phone, and it took him all the courage he had to dial your number. He wasn’t expecting you to pick up, but his mind raced fast when someone picked up. It must’ve been because it wasn’t you picking up, but he felt a lot more calmed, he wasn’t sure how you’d react to him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint had never been more terrified in his life. He fought bad guys often, but this was a different kind of fear. He was scared to even grab the phone, and it took him all the courage he had to dial your number. He wasn’t expecting you to pick up, but his mind raced fast when someone picked up. It must’ve been because it wasn’t you picking up, but he felt a lot more calmed, he wasn’t sure how you’d react to him.</p>
<p>“<em>Clint, this is Bailey… (Y/N) went for a walk and left her phone. She told me to tell you that you can meet at the coffee house near here, she said you should know which one.</em>”</p>
<p>“Did she say at what time?”</p>
<p>“<em>She said she’d be out for an hour, but you have like 45 minutes to get there. I won’t take any more time from you</em>.”</p>
<p>“Tell me, did you really tell her?” He pleaded.</p>
<p>“<em>What do you think?</em>” Bailey said shortly and hung up.</p>
<p>Clint hurried to get to the coffee house in which the future of his relationship with you would be decided. In his heart, he knew that Bailey had told you the truth, she seemed pretty serious about it, and he didn’t know how you reacted to it. Probably getting out of the house without your phone was a sign that you hadn’t taken it too well. It was something hard to sink in after all.</p>
<p>Regret and guilt was crawling down his spine, and as he went out of the door to meet you, he realized that there was no turning back from what he had done. He wasn’t ready to lose you, but he was aware that there was no way you’d stay with him. He wanted the cake and eat it too, because all he wanted was to be with you.</p>
<p>He didn’t like to think about how things would have been if you had met differently. If Clint had willingly come up to you, would your relationship be any different? He kinda hoped not. Your lack of interest and filter was probably the thing he loved the most about the process of getting to know you, and he loved you just like that. </p>
<p>You waited patiently for Clint to arrive. There were many things you wanted to do, like smashing his head against the table repeatedly, or just wait until you woke up from what it seemed like a nightmare. You started tapping on the table with your fingers, and though your nerves were killing you, you wanted to wait until Clint arrived to make any decision. Though if it was true what Bailey had said—not like you had doubts, but you wanted to hear things from Clint too—you weren’t sure if you’d ditch the possibility to be with Clint… you were in way too deep.</p>
<p>You saw him walking towards your table, and you could’ve sworn you had never seen him as beaten up as then. Surely you had seen him when he came back from missions, bruised and hurt and physically beaten up, but now he seemed beaten up from the inside.</p>
<p>“(Y/N), have you been waiting long?” He asked, taking the seat in front of you. “I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could—Bailey told me you were here.”</p>
<p>“You said you had something to tell me—you left it on the note,” you said calmly, even though you felt like a time bomb ready to blow up and destroy everything. “I’m all ears.”</p>
<p>“You must’ve heard it from Bailey already, but I have something to confess for myself… I lied to you,” though you knew it all, it hurt the most when he said it with his words. Betrayed was not exactly how you felt. “I’ve been lying to you for a while—since we met, actually. I—I cannot begin to tell you how embarrassed and ashamed I am of this, but know that I regret everything, and if I could go back in time, I’d do things differently because I realize that you’re not like everyone else,” this was probably one of the very few times that you had seen him struggle with words, and his vulnerability was one of the things that you loved the most about him.</p>
<p>The best part about Clint was when he stopped being an Avenger. The minute he put on his bunny slippers and relaxed was probably one of your favorite versions of him, but now with the things you had heard recently, you wondered if that was true or if it was just a thing born out of the bet. You wondered how much of what you saw was the real Clint.</p>
<p>It hurt to realize that you had been with a man that hid his true personality for so long, but that was starting to make sense all the walls you had encountered in the course of a year. You were never going to go through them, not in this lifetime at least.</p>
<p>“The first thing you need to know is that I love you, I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” his eyes became watery, and you were on the verge of shutting him up with a kiss. You wanted to forgive him and tell him everything would be alright. “(Y/N), about a year ago, I made a bet with Natasha to make you fall in love with me and to make you say it in the course of a year… which ended tomorrow,” your jaw dropped. Was he waiting until the very last day to tell you this? Was this the first chance he had to confess this to you? Now were starting to get irritated. “I was not supposed to fall in love with you, but I did, and I fell so hard… If I made you say you loved me, I would keep Natasha’s car, but if I didn’t, I would have to move out of my place. But I don’t want any of it if I cannot be with you. Truth is, there is no excuse to what I did—”</p>
<p>“You’re right,” you conceded. “What you did was very low. Of all the things I never expected to happen, someone making a bet with me is probably the first one. I cannot believe you did that. I mean, I know you’re shady, I’ve had many people telling me that. But to gamble on someone’s feelings? And for a car?” You scoffed. “That’s gotta be the lowest thing someone can do. How would you feel if someone did that to you?” Clint stayed in silence. “I’m asking for real, how would you feel?”</p>
<p>“Bad,” he whispered almost inaudibly.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t really get that,” your voice was firm and slightly loud. “How would you feel if someone played and tricked you for a car?”</p>
<p>“I’d feel terrible,” he gulped.</p>
<p>“Oh, you’d feel terrible,” you repeated. “And if you were to feel like that, why would you even do it to someone you don’t know? Because when you thought of all this shit you didn’t know me. We had only just met, right? We danced a little and shared a couple of drinks, nothing more. So why then?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know…”</p>
<p>“You don’t know” you repeated slowly, “how easy is that? So, what now? Am I supposed to forgive you just because you didn’t know what you were doing? You’re an adult, Clint, think better and tell me why you did this.”</p>
<p>“I really don’t know, (Y/N). I was drunk and… I just did it.”</p>
<p>“<em>I just did it </em>doesn’t cut it, Clint,” you breathed heavily. “I need a better reason.”</p>
<p>“Natasha said I couldn’t do it,” Clint shrived, shaking his head. His eyes were glowing with tears, but you couldn’t feel any kind of remorse or sympathy, especially since you didn’t know if it was a lie or not. “Pride got the best of me because I thought I could, and without falling in love, but I did,” he shook his head.</p>
<p>“You did what? Make me fall in love with you or fall in love yourself?”</p>
<p>“Fall in love with you,” he looked at you lovingly and asking for forgiveness.</p>
<p>“Okay, so now what?” You folded your arms over your chest. Forgiveness was not on the table anymore. Betrayal was worse than heartbreak, and you were only starting to realize that.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“In all the time you’ve been talking, you’ve said how much you regret it, and Natasha tricked you into this, how you’re in love with me…,” though you wouldn’t consider yourself hotheaded, you were having a very hard time showing your true feelings. Now you wanted to smash Clint’s head against the table, yell at him, rip his hair from his scalp and just do the damaged you considered was being done to you, but you were showing yourself so calm and composed that it made you more infuriated. “But I haven’t heard a single word to apologize for what you’ve done. Are you even sorry about this? Or is this just a trick to make me feel guilty and make me forgive you and probably take you back.”</p>
<p>“It’s not—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I hadn’t apologized to you. I didn’t mean to trick you like this.”</p>
<p>“But you just said it was all part of the bet,” you didn’t want to be a smart ass, you just wanted to be angry and scream, and throw stuff at him, not be calmed and reply to make him stutter and at a loss for words.</p>
<p>“No—I mean yes. (Y/N), I need you to understand that I never thought we would come this far…”</p>
<p>“So this is my fault now?”</p>
<p>“No! I just thought you’d… god, I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“You just thought I’d fall in love with you earlier and tell you I loved you earlier so that you wouldn’t be here stuck with some feelings you didn’t want in the first place,” you propped your elbows on the table. “You know, at first I was so reluctant to let you in. I knew you were trouble, I mean—I could smell it. Besides, since I kind of knew you, I just knew you weren’t a good guy, or at least a very normal one, and all I wanted in my life was normal,” you chewed on the insides of your cheek. “I’m no big deal, I’m just your regular person… but then you came along, and you showed me all of these cool things,” you looked away and pursed your lips. “You took me to the places I wanted to go, and showed me things that I only dreamed of… for what?” You could feel your breath racing in and out of your lungs. “Were you just expecting me to tell you I loved you? Even when I showed you in so many ways that I did?” Your eyes started to get watery. “You did all the right things, checked all the right boxes to make anyone fall in love, Clint, and I’m not sure if it’s because you just faked everything or because, deep inside, there’s a nice guy—I do hope it’s the last one,” your voiced cracked. “I was willing to do everything for you,” you felt the first tear rolling down on your cheek, and it took Clint a lot of willpower to not come closer and dry it with his own hands. “If you had asked, I would’ve sold my soul to the devil itself… just for you, because I… no,” you shook your head, “I’m not gonna tell you because you don’t deserve to hear it,” your voice cracked again, and you were no longer in control of yourself.</p>
<p>“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Clint reached out his hand over the table to grab yours but you were quick to stay out of his reach. “I know I screwed up, and…I know I’ll be asking for a lot if I tell you to start over, but I want you to know that I’m willing to do it all over, no lies… Can you at least forgive me?”</p>
<p>You scoffed. “How can you live with yourself, Clint? I don’t want anything to do with you—ever again. Don’t call me, don’t text me… And you know what?” You took a deep breath. “I hope one day you get so alone, that even if you’re with the person who loves you the most, you feel empty,” you growled. “I hope you have a hole in your chest that you can never fill. I hope you fall in love, Barton. Fall in love by doing all the right things, only for you to not be loved back. I forgive you, because if I don’t, then it’ll haunt me. But you don’t deserve to be loved, not by me—and not by anyone,” you shook your head. “Well, maybe Natasha. You do deserve each other. Go keep her secrets while she keeps yours. I don’t want to see you ever again in my life… I <em>hate</em> you,” with your hands on the table you helped yourself up and walked away back to your apartment.</p>
<p>Clint knew he had to follow you. His legs were aching to follow you, grab you by the arm, make you turn around and kiss the pain away. He asked for too much; forgiveness, love, being welcomed again by the heart he betrayed. He wanted the cake and eat it too. He wanted you.</p>
<p>Unable to move, Clint Barton watched you leave the coffee house and his life forever.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. To love a hero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“<i>Hey,</i>” your voice was soft and shaky. “<i>Hello?</i>” Clint was so glad to hear your voice again. It had been so long. “<i>Hey, if you don’t say anything I’m gonna hang up, I cannot deal with you right now. Hello?</i>”</p>
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    <p>“To love a hero, by (Y/N) (Y/L/N).</p><p>I met a hero once after a series of events that led me to him. I do not believe in destiny, nor do I recall ever doing it. Destiny seems like an excuse. “It was my destiny to not be with the love of my life.” Well, I am calling it you-know-what. The Beatles were not right when they sang that all you needed was love, because in my case, it was not enough. Because love cannot be enough when it is a one-sided matter.</p><p>It takes two to tango, after all.</p><p>If someone had told me that I’d fall in love with a hero, I wouldn’t have believed it. Heroes are my job, my duty; not a leisure, not a pleasure. But this hero was all of it and more, so much more. He showed me what was life made of; the great things, the happy things, the fun things, but in the end, he showed me that life was made of heartbreak and pain too. Not that I didn’t know it, I have had my fair share of pain and heartbreak too throughout my years. Life can be painful, yes, but love shouldn’t.</p><p>With my hero we met, we danced, we kissed and then we said goodbye. Unaware of the many abilities that this hero had, he found me and lured me into the trap of love. At first I was reluctant to it, since romantic love had avoided me ever since I was a child, and after growing up without it, I spent my early adult years with lovers that were a bunch of easy come and easy go. They never seemed to last, and even though I never did anything to keep them with me, they didn’t make me as happy as my hero made me.</p><p>The way I see it, love is supposed to nurture you, to heal you, to lift you up, but it is so only when reciprocal, and I was not loved back; at least, not entirely. The love I have –yes, in present tense— for my hero was based on a lie, on a bet, and I have enough awareness of my worth to not stay in a place where I was not wanted.</p><p>To love a hero—a real one, is not as simple, but it goes by the same rules. You need to add the constant fear that something is going to happen to your loved one, something bad; something that they cannot shake off. I learnt to live with the fear, but then I was rewarded with the relief of finding my hero in one piece each time, and willing and eager to welcome me into his warm embrace every time. My hero’s arms were one of the rare places where I felt safe and secure, and most of all, loved.</p><p>I could go on and on about my hero, I could even reveal to the world the person behind the suit, but I love my hero enough to still worry and care. My hero is only mine, and I can assure you all, readers, that my hero will never find someone like me—not that I am some great person anyway, but at least let me live in that delusion.</p><p>Of all the many things I didn’t tell you when we said goodbye, here are a few things that I think you should know. I love you—I love you like I have never loved anyone. Thanks for the trips we had, thanks for driving and letting me choose the music even though you didn’t like it. I thank you for giving me more than I could ever ask for, but I curse you for making me pay such high price. I didn’t deserve it, and I hope life has made sure to show you that.</p><p>I guess I would like to end this by saying that I will get better, or that I have gotten better, but truth is that, it has been about a year since my hero revealed that I was part of a bet and I still haven’t figured out how I will forget everything we went through. I have tried about everything to keep my mind busy, I tried to think about him until it did not hurt anymore, but all of that has failed, and I only seem to be getting worse.</p><p>To my hero.”</p><p>Clint took a deep breath and closed the tab of your article. He rubbed his temples, doubting if to call you or let you know that he read your words, but it had been about a year since you last spoke, and it wasn’t exactly on the best terms. He missed you like hell, and it was more so because he knew he had no chance to win back your love, or your forgiveness, even though you said you forgave him. What he had done was terrible, and now there was an article to remind him of it.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Natasha asked behind him. For her, things were pretty much perfect. Bailey had broken up with her as well, but Nat was not as devastated as Clint; she wasn’t really sad about it. The best love she had ever received was from Clint, so having him entirely for her again was a sort of win even if Bailey was fun to be around. “What did she say?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Clint shook his head. “Nothing important.”</p><p>“Are you still mad at me?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. “Oh, come on,” she kissed his cheek loudly, “you know that it was all part of a game—don’t tell me actually caught feelings for her and that you’re still hung up on it,” she chuckled softly. “Come on, I already said I was sorry for planning this stupid bet, but I’m glad I finally got you all to myself,” she cooed.</p><p>“You catch a cold, Natasha,” Clint replied coldly, untangling her arms from around him. “I gotta go, we’ll talk later.”</p><p>“You’re not gonna go see her, right?” Natasha cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. Even though Clint had agreed to try to have a formal relationship with her, it had not been the same. She knew he loved (Y/N), and that there was nothing to do about it.</p><p>“No,” Clint walked towards the door. “She said she didn’t want to see me ever again. Besides we’re together now,” he stated with disdain. “I’ll be back later.”</p><p>Clint closed the door with a loud slam and jogged down the stairs towards the street. Since he didn’t win the bet, Natasha took over the apartment, but allowed Clint to live with her since they were gonna give their love another chance. He wasn’t exactly okay with the idea, but he didn’t want to give up his apartment, and since he had been lying a lot lately, one more lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially her.</p><p>With his phone in his hands, Clint walked away quickly. He needed a space that was outside the redhead’s sight or concern. He was about to do the one thing he promised he wouldn’t do after you found out the truth: call you. He knew you wouldn’t pick up, but before he could hang up, your voice was coming out of the other line.</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>,” your voice was soft and shaky. “<em>Hello?</em>” Clint was so glad to hear your voice again. It had been so long. “<em>Hey, if you don’t say anything I’m gonna hang up, I cannot deal with you right now. Hello?</em>”</p><p>“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry for hurting you,” Clint’s voice cracked. “I read what you wrote today, and I know I cannot make things better, but I just wanted to hear your voice today. I’ve been missing you so much lately. Well, if you count the past year as lately, then I have missed you lately. Lying to you was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ll regret it always, but I need you to know that I love you so much. You cannot even imagine.”</p><p>“<em>I believe you do,”</em> you replied simply, “<em>otherwise you wouldn’t be calling after all this time, but what you did to me… I haven’t even started to heal yet. I have no idea how I’m able to talk to you without crying like an idiot, but I guess the phone has something to do with it. I really wanna forgive you, Clint, because hating you or resenting you is not good for my healing process, but I wanna forget you, because you are no longer a source of good memories. You spoiled all that we had with your bullshit, and I’m not gonna dwell on someone that you are clearly not. The man I fell in love with lives only in my imagination, because I was tricked this whole time. So don’t call me again. Even if you miss me, if you think of me… Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t do anything to contact me, because this is the last time I will ever pick up. Goodbye, Clint… I…” </em>and that one last crack of your voice was the last thing Clint heard from you.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The coffee shop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The coffee shop looked different, better, and you couldn’t recognize any of the workers there, even the menu was different. All of it was different, and you didn’t know whether to thank for the difference or if to miss it and wish it was like before. You thanked the barista for your coffee and sneaked in between the people to get out of there, since you still had more errands to run.</p>
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    <p>You hadn’t come back to that coffee shop in years, probably since you and Clint had your last conversation in person; that hadn’t gone so well, at least that’s what you remember. You weren’t sure why you went there, you weren’t exactly near the place; all you knew is that you couldn’t stop walking that way. Things were kinda hazy now, it had been about 5 or 6 years since everything happened: the bet, and falling in love with Clint Barton… He was a memory now, just a memory, and you tried not to think about it too much, or you’d start giving it a meaning.</p><p>The coffee shop looked different, better, and you couldn’t recognize any of the workers there, even the menu was different. All of it was different, and you didn’t know whether to thank for the difference or if to miss it and wish it was like before. You thanked the barista for your coffee and sneaked in between the people to get out of there, since you still had more errands to run.</p><p>Except for the crowd that gathered out of the blue, nothing was like it used to be, you surely weren’t the same person, and if someone from your past was to see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you—</p><p>“(Y/N)?” You heard someone calling you from your side, and as you turned your head, you saw Clint Barton’s familiar face. <em>Speaking of people from the past</em>, you thought to yourself. Of course he had changed over the course of these past 5 years, but to you, he looked just like the last time you saw him. “Hey, it’s me—”</p><p>“Hey Barton,” you replied, feeling a soft smile spread on your lips. “How are you?”</p><p>“I’m good—uhh… do you happen to have time right now?” He asked quickly. “I just need to buy my coffee and maybe we could catch up…”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess I could wait,” you shrugged carelessly. You didn’t want to, really. There were some other things you had to do, and what was worse, you had someone waiting for you, but there you were again, unable to say no to Clint Barton… <em>again</em>. “I’ll wait outside,” you grabbed his arm gently and walked towards a couple of chairs on the back patio that the coffee house had.</p><p>“<em>I just ran into Barton and I’m gonna have a coffee with him, what are the chances? This city, I swear!</em>” You texted Bailey, hoping she’d have her phone with her to reply right away.</p><p>“<em>U could’ve said no. Did you have something else to do?</em>” Bailey texted back; she was right, as usual.</p><p>“Wow, (Y/N),” Clint sighed heavily, carrying his coffee and a small plate with croissants and other stuff you used to enjoy. You shoved your phone back in your bag. “It’s been years since I last saw you, how are you? I brought you these because I remember you liked them a lot.”</p><p>“I’m good, thanks,” you nodded, taking one of the biscuits—<em>amazing as usual</em>. “How are you? How’s Nat?” You heard him choking with the beverage. “You still together?” You pursed your lips mischievously. Clint was still coughing the sip he just had. “Don’t blame me,” you rose your palms in a defense manner. “Bailey kept a close eye on both of you or a while and she told me stuff—it’s kinda why we had our first fight in years.”</p><p>“You two fighting? That sounds odd.”</p><p>“Yeah, but she kept telling me stuff about you two and all I wanted was to forget everything about you and Natasha… The way I told her to please stop wasn’t exactly the kindest, but then we made up a while after.”</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” Clint lowered his head. “So, what have you done all these years?”</p><p>“I’ve been out of the country actually. I was studying, and now I’m working and living in France,” you replied plainly.</p><p>“(Y/N), I don’t mean to pry, especially after all these years, but… I really wanna know what happened with you. When I called you that time—”</p><p>“Well, it took me a while to pull myself together,” you cut him off, sighing heavily. You weren’t really sure you’d have that conversation with anyone but yourself and your therapist. “I was doing kind of alright before you called me that time, but then I hit rock bottom—I had my falling out with Bailey around that time too,” you narrowed your eyes, trying to put the memories back together again. “I went back to living with my parents and I just didn’t wanna get out of my room. It wasn’t easy, you know? Forgetting you,” you tugged at your bottom lip. “You really did a thing with me,” you chuckled softly. “But then one day I was going through some of my old stuff and I got to this flyer of a study opportunity in France, and next thing I know, I was on the plane on my way to Paris… It’s been about three years from that, bit more I think. But yeah, I’m living there now and you are… just a memory.”</p><p>“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made you move,” Clint gulped. “I’m sorry for all the damage I did, the pain I caused and—”</p><p>“I forgave you Clint,” you pointed out. “I forgave you such a long time ago, and yes, it took a little bit of therapy, but now I hold no resentment for you. I moved on, and I’m—”</p><p>“Engaged,” he stated, pointing at your hand.</p><p>“Yeah,” you nodded. “I got engaged last year. His name is Raphael, but he’s Spanish,” you chuckled. “We met in class—he’s a war journalist; apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson on guys with dangerous jobs,” you teased. “Old habits, am I right? Anyway, Raphie—he’s a great guy… though my Spanish is still poor.”</p><p>“I’m really glad you’re happy,” he made a toasting manner with his cup of coffee. “I’m glad you could find yourself a good one after all.”</p><p>“What about you? You didn’t answer if you were still with Nat,” you kindly reminded him.</p><p>“I’ve been working—Nat and I fell out and I think she’s back with the guy that works in Hell’s Kitchen; Ma—Daredevil, though I don’t know if he’s still doing that kind of work,” Clint shook his head quickly. “We’re just colleagues now, and we’re trying to keep peace for the team but I don’t think we’ll be friends again. At least I know I don’t want to be friends with her.”</p><p>“Do you miss her?”</p><p>“Off the record?” Clint laughed heartedly, taking his hand to his chest and letting his head hang, you couldn’t help to laugh along; he was so different now, and you wondered if not being around Natasha had something to with it. He was far more likeable now, and he seemed free. It was as if he had no walls around him, in minutes, you had tumbled more walls than in the course of a whole year, and that was odd, but it was a nice sentiment. “It took me a while to realize that our relationship was toxic as shit—that what we had wasn’t healthy for any of us, and probably the people around us. The team is still walking on eggshells when we’re around each other, but we’re just keeping a polite distance. As for if I miss her… I don’t know. I miss the toxic parts of us—but it’s because I feel lonely at times, but I don’t think I miss her as a person. She was very demanding. There’s other person I’ve been missing.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah—you,” you blinked perplexed, unsure of what to say. “Don’t worry, I know I have no chance to be with you—you’re engaged and completely better off without me, but seeing you reminded me off all the good times we had.”</p><p>“You do realize those weren’t exactly good times for me,” you reminded him. “I was being tricked.”</p><p>“Yeah, not really my proudest moment, you know? This is gonna sound selfish as hell, but I had such a great time with you—not with the bet, but whenever I forgot about it, and it was just you and me… it was amazing. You were amazing, too bad I screwed it all up. If I could turn back time, believe me I would.”</p><p>“I know,” you nodded. “And I really believed when you said you were sorry… I just wasn’t in a good place to think of you in a healthy way. Now I do.”</p><p>“Did you really forgive me?”</p><p>“Of course I did, Clint. Well, for selfish reasons at first,” you admitted. “I mean, I wanted to forgive you to be the bigger person, the better person, but then when I started getting help, I realized that holding resentment wasn’t gonna help me move on. And I was in the middle of that process when I met Raphie. We were really honest—<em>brutally honest</em> with each other. I told him I was going to therapy because a guy fucked up with my brain and my heart, and that I needed time, but he decided to stay and help me get through. It’s not like I didn’t trust him, because let’s be honest, I settled for the thought that you’d be the only one fucked up enough to make a bet out of love,” you pursed your lips. “But I didn’t trust <em>myself</em> around him,” you clicked your tongue. “He said I had too many walls, can you believe that?” You giggled breathily. “Anyway—let’s just say it’s all in the past now, alright?”</p><p>“Okay,” Clint nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Sorry—” you took your phone and answered. “Yes? Oh hey honey… No, I ran into an old friend and we had a coffee to catch up… With dad? Okay—yeah I have keys. Take care… Yeah, I love you too,” you tugged at your bottom lip, feeling slightly embarrassed to be saying that in front of a man you used to love too, even though you never really got to tell him. “Yeah, bye…” You shoved your phone back into your purse.</p><p>“Raphie?” Clint teased.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s going out with dad. Speaking of… he told me you two talk.”</p><p>“Yeah, I called him a few years ago. I needed to let him know that I loved you very much, and that what happened was probably my biggest mistake in life, and if you must know, it still is,” he looked at you with a serious expression. “He heard what I had to say, and after that he kept calling to check up on me. We talk to each other, not really often now, but we do.”</p><p>“Wow, my dad keeping in touch with you,” you smiled softly. “He barely calls me, and I’m his daughter. What do you guys talk about anyway, Master Chef?</p><p>“We do, actually,” he chuckled. “And the British Bake Off.”</p><p>“Of course you do,” you shook your head. “Look, Clint, it’s been nice catching up, but I have to go. Bride duties and stuff,” you shrugged and grabbed your purse from the seat next to you. “I’m really glad you’re fine and that you’re happy… and glad you got rid of Nat. She was a terrible person,” you tugged at your bottom lip.</p><p>“Can I drive you somewhere?” He dangled a set of keys in his hand. “Got a real license now,” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.</p><p>“You really wanna take me to pick up my wedding dress?”</p><p>“Yeah why not, do I get to see you in it?”</p><p>You walked together back to his car, and though you weren’t sure what to say, Clint always found a way to talk about something: the weather, the changes in the city while you two were gone—apparently, he had been away for some time too, but he returned because he missed his home a lot.</p><p>He walked with you to pick up the dress, and the lady made you try it on to make any last minute adjustments. You walked back to Clint, whose jaw dropped the minute he saw you, and if you didn’t know him better, you could’ve sworn his eyes filled with tears.</p><p>“It doesn’t really need any adjustment sweetie,” the lady said kindly. “Your friend is about to cry,” she whispered to your ear. “You look as pretty as I remember,” she said in a normal voice.</p><p>“Yeah, I think it’s perfect,” you smiled at yourself in the mirror. “I love it,” you flattened the fabric on your curves. “What do you think, Barton? Do I look good?”</p><p>“Y—yeah,” he nodded. “You look gorgeous.”</p><p>“Let’s get you out of this dress, shall we?” You nodded and walked back with the clerk to the dressing room.</p><p>You were given the bag with your dress and Clint helped you carry it back to his car. Then, he drove you back to your hotel. He didn’t say much now, but the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice to be with Clint again; you could really feel the lack of Natasha in his life, and had you been in another moment in your life, you would’ve probably try one last thing with him.</p><p>“We’re here,” he said, parking gently right in front of your hotel. “Safe and sound.”</p><p>“Thank you, Clint,” you smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. “I really meant when I said that I’m glad you’re better now, but it sucks that I got to see the real you like this…”</p><p>“Like how?”</p><p>“About to get married,” you clicked your tongue. “I’m sorry,” you shook your head.</p><p>“It’s okay. I can’t say I’m okay with you getting married—I mean, I love that you moved on and that you’re happy with someone else, but… when I saw you I wasn’t really expecting you’d be marrying in a couple of days.”</p><p>“Bye, Clint,” you thumbed at his cheek and he grabbed your wrist gently. “Take care, okay?” He nodded, and with your free hand, you pulled him closer to press your lips against his.</p><p>Though he seemed taken aback, he didn’t hesitate to reply the kiss. His hands quickly enclosed your face as he moved forward se he could be closer to you. Breathless, you pulled away slowly, cutting the kiss.</p><p>“It was really nice seeing you,” you smiled and grabbed your dress from the backseat. You got off quickly, fearing that if you’d stay near him for longer, you would do something highly regrettable.</p><p>Though you had closed the Barton chapter of your life a while ago, and that you were extremely happy with your life now, you couldn’t help to feel like a ton was removed from your shoulders, and you’d probably live a happy and healthy marriage with a man who didn’t wouldn’t break your trust.</p>
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